A Second Chance
by H. Matsui
Summary: UPDATED Jan 1! Final Chapter is up. It's been twelve years since Lizzie McGuire has passed away. Can 28 year old David Gordon convince his 16 year old self to change the past and prevent the death of the girl he loved? A Romantic Time Travel Story.
1. Default Chapter

David still couldn't believe it. He didn't want to believe it.  
  
But, it was true. . . his best friend Lizzie McGuire was dead.  
  
She died on July 31, 2003, on a cool, misty rainy night. That night, she was involved in a horrific car accident on the Pacific Coast Highway. . .she lost control of her car on the slick wet highway and her car careened into the cliffside, killing her instantly. Lizzie was sixteen years old on the night she passed away.  
  
At Lizzie's funeral, David stared blankly at the ceiling while the minister gave the eulogy. He was in absolute denial. He still couldn't fathom the cold hard truth. . . his best friend, the girl that he had quietly, secretly loved, was gone, forever. Or, so he thought. . .  
  
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12 years later . . .  
  
The year was 2015. David was 28 years old, a successful filmmaker living in Santa Monica, California. He had everything that anyone could ever want. . .fame, success, wealth, friends, family, and a beautiful girlfriend. Yet, something was terribly wrong in his life. An emptiness has haunted him for the past 15 years, an emptiness that he simply has not been able to shake. An emptiness so intense that on some days, he thought it would consume his entire being and rip his fragile soul apart. Something was missing in his life. Or, more accurately, *someone* was missing in his life.  
  
Lizzie, I miss you so much, muttered David during a restless sleep. Lizzie, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. . .  
  
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The next day, David woke up from his slumber, let out a deep yawn, then trudged into the bathroom to take a shower. His girlfriend, an actress, was in New York City to shoot a music video, so he was by himself this during a long July weekend. He didn't quite know what to do with himself; he had just finished the final edits on his most recent feature film and had three days before he began working on his next project.  
  
After his shower, he had some lox and bagel for brunch, with coffee, of course; he simply had to have his morning coffee in order for him to be functional during the day.  
  
After cleaning his plate, he wandered outside and sat himself down on a lawn chair resting next to his swimming pool. The sun was in a rather pleasant mood today, and it generously sprayed its sunbeams all over him.  
  
Okay, what should I do today? Don't feel like taking a swim, don't feel like hanging out with my buddies, don't feel like doing much of anything. . .  
  
He thought for awhile, then picked himself up from the lawn chair and headed into his work room. I'm going to play with my new ham radio, what a perfect way to spend a lazy Saturday! He had just purchased his fifth vintage ham radio from an antique store, a radio straight from the sixties.  
  
David's history with ham radios went back 13 years. His parents purchased a ham radio on E-Bay and gave it to him as his fifteenth birthday present. They knew that he liked vintage collectibles like eight-track players, phonographs, and betamax video recorders, and so they anticipated that he would thoroughly enjoy owning a vintage ham radio.  
  
They were right. David took to the radio like a duck to water. He would constantly play with it, and he persistently tried to coax his friends Lizzie and Miranda to get their own ham radios, to no avail. Girls, thought Gordo, they just don't get the beauty of talking on a ham radio..  
  
His love affair with ham radios continued into his adulthood, and whenever he had the chance, he would turn on his ham radio to find someone to chat with. He would often get on it and chat with truck drivers and anyone else he could catch. He found his radio a great way to escape from the stress of his everyday life.  
  
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David grabbed a coke from the fridge and headed straight to his desk and to his ham radio. He flopped into his chair and immediately turned the radio on.  
  
While he was waiting to hear from someone over his ham radio, the weather suddenly took an unusual turn. . . the bright sunny sky instantly turned grey, as clouds angrily covered up the sun and showered the day with brilliant darkness. Lightning soon followed, with thunder not too far behind. A warm lazy day was instantaneously transformed into an intense, moody afternoon.  
  
He watched the sky turn a blackened grey outside his window. He could feel the electricity in the air. The wind was picking up, howling and whistling with frantic fervor. He could feel it. . . there was something going on out there, something out of the ordinary.  
  
As he watched the rain violently lash itself onto the earth, he was startled to hear a raspy voice on his ham radio. "Hello, anyone there?"  
  
David pulled his face close to the microphone and said, "Hey there! Can you hear me?"  
  
He heard static, then a faint voice that replied, "Yeah, I can hear ya! What's up? Is the electric storm happening where you are, too?"  
  
David replied, "That's right, good buddy. It's really intense out there! It's absolutely amazing!"  
  
The voice replied, "Definitely. So, hey, what's your name? My name's David Gordon, but my friends call me Gordo."  
  
Huh? David stared into his ham radio microphone, completely dumbfounded. I'm talking to a David who's nickname also is Gordo? What are the chances of that?  
  
David replied, "That's funny, Gordo, because my name is David Gordon and my friends also call me Gordo!"  
  
"Whoa! Very twilight zone-ish. It's like I'm meeting my long lost twin. So, how's it going, "Gordo?" Geez, it's so weird calling someone else my name! I'm sixteen, by the way, and I go to Hillridge High School."  
  
This is getting even weirder, thought the 28 year old Gordo. He replied, "Really? That's funny, because I'm a graduate of Hillridge High!"  
  
"Whoa again! Two David Gordons, both nicknamed Gordo, both students of Hillridge High, talking to each other over a ham radio during an electrical storm. What are the odds of that happening? When did you graduate, by the way?"  
  
"I graduated in 2005."  
  
Silence. "Uh, is this a joke?"  
  
"A joke? Uh, no. Really, I graduated 10 years ago in May of 2005."  
  
"Ha-ha, that's really funny, man. What, and you're really Jesus Christ, too, right?"  
  
"What are you talking about? Are you okay?"  
  
"What do you mean, what am I talking about? This is the year 2003, man. Unless I'm talking to someone from the future, or more accurately, unless I'm talking to someone who needs some serious psychiatric help, this is the year 2003."  
  
Huh? "No, Gordo, this is the year 2015. 2003 was 12 years ago. Are you playing some sort of practical joke? Is this Barry? No, no, you're Tudgeman, right?"  
  
"2015? No way, man. No way. This is the year 2003, I repeat, this is the year 2003. Hey, you seem a little. . . unsettled. Look, if you need some counseling or therapy, my dad's a psychiatrist, he could help you. And, when you mentioned Tudgeman . . . you didn't mean Larry Tudgeman, do you?"  
  
What in the world is going on? This other "Gordo" also has a Larry Tudgeman as his friend? And a psychiatrist dad as well? David's head started to spin. He started to think the unthinkable. . .this can't be happening, this isn't real. No, it can't, thought David. Yet, the boy's voice sounded so much like. . . his own.  
  
It was happening, it was real. David Gordon, age 28, was talking on a ham radio with a sixteen year old version of himself.  
  
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Author's Note: This story is a time travel romantic L/G fantasy; inspired by two films: Frequency and The Kid. Yes, the story's a bit quirky, but hopefully its piqued your curiosity. Please read and review! 


	2. Chapter Two

Author's Notes: Thanks so much for the reviews! I'm glad you're all intrigued by the story so far. Here's chapter two, please read and review.  
  
Also, as a way to make it easier to tell which Gordo is speaking, I'm going to refer to the adult version as "David," and the teenage version as "Gordo." _______________________________________________________________________  
  
David's head was in a swirl. He still couldn't accept what was happening. This stuff just doesn't happen in real life, thought David. But, unless either he was dreaming, or the other person on the ham radio was an extremely clever con artist, he was now actually communicating with a younger version of himself.  
  
"You still there, Gordo?" asked the younger "Gordo."  
  
David had to make sure that whatever was happening was really happening.  
  
"Yes, and Gordo, please call me David. I haven't gone by Gordo in a long time."  
  
"Sure, David."  
  
"Uh, listen, Gordo, I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."  
  
"Go ahead, I've got time. I'm just hanging out at home."  
  
David asked, "you said you were sixteen years old. Any idea what you want to do for a career?"  
  
"Definitely. I *know* that I'm going to become a film director. Filmmaking is my passion, it's in my blood. I've already made several video movies, and I'm planning to go to graduate film school after college. Funny you should ask since I just put the finishing touches on a science fiction short film I've been working on since middle school."  
  
David laughed to himself. He remembered that film very well. He started it in middle school, but production had to be shut down after he maxed out his credit card. But, despite the set-back, he was determined to finish his movie, and he was able to scrape up enough cash from tutoring and lawn mowing to eventually complete the film during high school. He changed the title of the film several times, but he finally ended up naming it . . .  
  
"I'm really proud of the film. I'm calling it "A Galaxy Too Far." Gordo completed David's sentence for him.  
  
Yes, that was right, thought David. A Galaxy Too Far was his first "big budget" film, a film that helped him get into University of California at Berkeley, and eventually into USC graduate film school.  
  
David took off his new eyeglasses, and rubbed his eyes, hoping to shake the dazed feeling that had his head spinning in disbelief. It really is happening, thought David, I'm really talking to myself from 12 years ago.  
  
There was only one more question he needed to ask, and then he would be absolutely certain. It's a question that scared him, because it meant revisiting the grief he felt when his best friend died 12 years ago.  
  
"Gordo, why are you home by yourself? Don't you usually hang out with your friends?"  
  
"Well, there's a good reason why I'm not with my friends today. They're off shopping at the mall for bras, and I had absolutely no desire to be any part of that. Nope, no way, uh-uh."  
  
"Your friends. . . they're your best friends, aren't they? These two girls?"  
  
"Yeah, how did you know? I know you probably think it's weird that a guy has two girls as his best friends. But, they're really great, and I've been friends with them for as long as I can remember."  
  
"No, I don't think its weird at all, believe me. They sound like great friends, except, of course, when they're out bra shopping, I'm totally with you there on that one, Gordo." David could here Gordo laughing. "What are their names, by the way?"  
  
"Lizze and Miranda."  
  
Upon hearing those names, David suddenly froze as a sudden realization dawned over him. Oh my god, thought David, it can't be. . .  
  
With an audible anxiousness in his voice, David asked, "Gordo, your friend Lizzie. Her real name is Elizabeth Brooke McGuire, right?"  
  
"Yeah. Hey, how did you know that, David?"  
  
"Tell me Gordo, is she. . . is she . . ." David couldn't get out his question.  
  
"Is she what?"  
  
"Is Lizzie, is she still, still. . .alive?"  
  
"Of course she's alive! Why wouldn't she be? I just talked with her an hour ago, right before she and Miranda drove to the mall. David, look this is getting really strange, and you're starting to freak me out. How do you know so much about me and my friends?"  
  
Upon hearing Gordo's answer, David's heart started to race and his head started to pound. A million thoughts raced through his head, and his hands started to shake. One thought, though, kept running through his head, a thought that repeated itself with greater frequency. *Lizzie was alive!!*  
  
"Gordo, tell me, what day is it where you are?"  
  
"Uh, it's Saturday."  
  
"No, no, tell me what date it is!" David asked with a heightened irritation in his voice.  
  
"Hey, don't get so upset. Let's see, today is July 30th, 2003. Do you want the time, too?" Gordo asked sarcastically.  
  
David's mind reeled. "She's alive!! She doesn't die for another day. It's not too late! It's not too late! Oh my god, it's still not too late!!"  
  
"Oh-kay, David, you are really starting to scare me now. Look man, I think I should be going, now."  
  
"No, no, no, no, no!! Gordo, please please don't go. I have to tell you something, something that is going to be the most important thing you've ever been told in your life, something that is going to completely affect your life and the life of everyone around you."  
  
"What's that?"  
  
David took a deep breath, then as calmly as possible told Gordo, "Gordo, I know this is going to sound very strange, it's still strange to me. But, just hear me out, okay? Gordo, the reason why I know so much about you is because I *am* you, a future you, 12 years older, living in the year 2015. And Gordo, before you say anything, you need to know this. . . in one day, on July 31st, your friend, Lizzie, my friend Lizzie, she's going to be killed in a car accident. But, we have one day, Gordo!! One day!! We can save her, we can save Lizzie." 


	3. Chapter Three

Author's Note: wow, thanks for all the great reviews!! I'm so glad that you're all excited about my story. It really is inspiring and encouraging to read your wonderful reviews. Anyway, here's the next chapter, please read and review!  
  
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David heard a deafening silence from the other end of the microphone.  
  
"Gordo, are you still there?"  
  
A quiet voice replied, "yeah, I'm still here. I just don't . . . I just don't know . . ."  
  
"Know what to believe?"  
  
"Yeah, that's right. David, let me get this straight. You're telling me that as I'm talking to you right at this moment, I'm really talking with myself."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"And, we have one day before . . ."  
  
"Before Lizzie gets killed. Gordo, I know it's hard to take, believe me. I've lived for 12 years being haunted every day by Lizzie's death. But, the amazing thing is, we can *do* something about it now!" said David, grasping the microphone with such force that he was starting to bruise his right hand.  
  
"Can you give me a sec, David? This is really hard to take. And really, how do I know what you're telling me is really true? Maybe you're sociopath who gets a high scaring poor high school kids to death."  
  
"I completely understand your, skepticism, but, we don't have that much time. We need to talk *now* about what you have to do to make sure that Lizzie doesn't die tomorrow."  
  
"No, I don't believe you. I don't want to believe you. Lizzie *cannot* die. This just isn't rational at all."  
  
David was getting frustrated by Gordo's disbelief. Calm down, David, calm down. That's exactly how you would respond if you were 16 years old again and hearing everything that you've just told Gordo. You've got to convince himself, and fast, so think hard. . .  
  
"Listen Gordo, I'll try to prove to you that everything I'm telling you is true. I know everything about you, because I was you, I am you." With that, David started telling Gordo every information about himself that would come to the top of his head. He told Gordo about his parents, about his grandmother who went around calling herself gorgeous, about his bar mitvah experience, about his movie the "Gordo Files," about his short-lived early high school misadventure during middle school, about his obsession with the game Dwarflord, about his date with Pamela Baker in 9th grade.  
  
Gordo listened to David recite the story of his life, but he was still resisting the truth. "Look, David, *if* that's even your real name, I admit, you've done a great job of doing some research on me, but, there's nothing you haven't told me that you couldn't have found out from other people."  
  
David swallowed his rising frustration and said, "Gordo, I know more than what you've done in your life, I know everything that you carry deep inside your heart. I know you love Lizzie, Gordo, I know that you've been in love with her since the fourth grade. I know how wonderful and miserable it is being the best friend of someone you're in love with, because you're so close and yet so far. I know that a day doesn't go by when you think about her, about how absolutely beautiful she is, inside and out. I know how much you wish that she would feel the same way about you."  
  
Silence. "How-how do you know? I've never told anyone about how I feel about Lizzie."  
  
"Because I am you. Remember the day when you went to Lizzie's house to return some cds to her only to catch her kissing that Ronnie guy? Do you remember how we felt when we saw that happening?"  
  
"I felt like . . . "  
  
"a knife was cutting through my heart," David and Gordo said simultaneously.  
  
"And remember, Gordo, when Ronnie broke up with Lizzie, I . . . you. . .*we*, met her in the library, and she was in tears and . . . "  
  
"I gave her a big cookie from the school cafeteria to try and cheer her up, because I . . ."  
  
"missed her so much, since you hardly ever saw her anymore, because all she was doing was hanging out with Ronnie. But, when you saw tears flowing down her cheeks, all you wanted to do was . . . "  
  
"to just reach over and hold her tightly and tell her that everything was going to be alright. David, man, it was killing me. . . "  
  
"To see her so sad, to see her suffering like that, because . . ."  
  
"I love her so much, I love her with all my heart!"  
  
" I know, Gordo, I know. And if you love her, and I *know* you do, then you've got to believe me, trust me, and listen to me if we're going to save her."  
  
"Okay, David, I'm still not sure what in the world is going on, but, if Lizzie's in danger in anyway, then, I'll do whatever it takes to make sure she doesn't get hurt. So, what happens to her tomorrow?"  
  
David winced, as he realized that he was going to have to tell Gordo in explicit detail what happened on the night of Lizzie's death. The thought of having to re-remember the events of that tragic night gave David the chills, and he had to grab a hold of the desk with both hands to steady himself. He took another deep breath, and then was about to talk into the microphone when Gordo said to him, "Hey, David, hold on, someone's at the door. Let me see who it is."  
  
"Okay, but hurry back, Gordo, we don't have all that much time."  
  
"Right. Be right back."  
  
David drummed his fingers on the desk as he waited for Gordo to come back. Even though he tried very hard not to keep thinking about that night, he couldn't help it. Right now, that was all he could think about. . . the awful fight he had with Lizzie while they stood outside of her home in the torrential rain; and the awful sinking feeling he had while he watched Lizzie, tearful and upset, get into her car and drive off into the heart of the night; and the fact that that was the last time he had seen Lizzie McGuire alive.  
  
As David was getting deeply immersed into the darkness of his past, he heard Gordo on his microphone. "David, you still there?  
  
"I'm here, Gordo. Okay, now let's get back to what happens tomorrow night."  
  
"Uh, can we hold off on that, David? I've got a guest in the house right now. She's right here with me. Say hi to my friend David, Lizzie."  
  
Upon hearing what Gordo said, David's heart skipped a palpable beat. Li- Lizzie? Lizzie's there? David became light-headed, and he felt like he was about to faint. He could not believe what was happening, he could not believe what was about to happen. He was about to talk to his best friend Lizzie, his best friend who has been dead for the past 12 years.  
  
"Hi David! How are ya? It's really nice to be talking with a friend of Gordo's," said sixteen year old Lizzie McGuire on the day before she died. . . 


	4. Announcement

Author's Note: Just want to let you know that I'll be going on a trip for a few days and so won't be able to update my stories until early next week (Monday or Tuesday). Thanks so much for your reviews, and keep reviewing! See you all soon. 


	5. Chapter Four

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Wow, I was really touched, coming back home from my trip, to see all the positive thoughts about my story. Thank you all, again. I truly, truly appreciate it.  
  
Okay, here's chapter four. It's a short chapter, but I wanted to get it up since I haven't updated in awhile. Please read and review!  
  
~ HM  
  
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When David heard Lizzie's voice, he felt himself instantly being transported back in time, as if he was sixteen years old again. Lizzie's melodic voice gently pierced his sullen heart, letting loose a torrent of emotions that David had been refusing to feel for over a decade. He was flooded with feelings of passionate joy and with feelings of deep, melancholic longing. He began to weep, silently, closing his eyes and trying to grapple with the reality of his senses. *I've missed you so much, Lizzie!* whispered David to himself.  
  
"David, are you there?" said a quizzical Lizzie. There had been no response to her hello.  
  
David grabbed the microphone, composed himself, and replied, "I-I'm here, Lizzie. I'm here." He could not believe it. . . he was once again talking to his best friend. Is this what it feels like to be God, David wondered. "How are you, Lizzie?"  
  
"I'm great! I just went shopping with my friend Miranda, and after I dropped her off, I stopped by Gordo's apartment to say hello!"  
  
"Gordo's told me a lot about you, Lizzie. He tells me that you're a wonderful friend," said David, with a quiet awe in his voice. This is so surreal . . .this can't be real, this can't be real, this can't be real, this can't be real. . .  
  
"Awww.Gordo's sooo sweet! I wouldn't know what I would do without him. He's my best friend, and I know he's always got my back. I'm sure you know this, David, Gordo's the greatest friend anyone could ever have! Except when I need to buy some bras," giggled Lizzie.  
  
David smiled, and blushed, moved immensely by Lizzie' compliment, but not knowing quite how to respond; after all, Lizzie had no idea that she was complimenting *him.* David wiped away streaming tears with his fingers, took a deep breath, and wished with all of his heart that this moment would never end, hoping that this wasn't just all a dream, loving every moment of it, and yet, at the same time, feeling angry that he could not see and *be* with Lizzie, angry that he couldn't feel her soft, loving embrace, nor gaze into her soulful eyes, nor see her flirtatious smile, nor breathe in her soft, rosy fragrance. David felt both blessed and cursed, grateful that he was at least able to talk with Lizzie, but frustrated that he couldn't have more of her, frustrated that he could only take her in with but a solitary sense.  
  
David took another deep breath, then responded, "Uh, yeah, Gordo's a great guy," said David, slightly discomforted about talking about himself in the third person. "And he's a great judge of character."  
  
Lizzie laughed. "Well, if Gordo's telling you great things about me, then I agree! Gordo *is* a great judge of character!"  
  
David smiled, and just as he was about to respond, he was suddenly hit with a wave of sadness and guilt, as his mind began to replay the fight that he had with Lizzie on the night of her death. "I'm so. . . so sorry, Lizzie," whispered David into the microphone, with an audible tremble in his voice.  
  
"Huh? Why are you sorry, David? Sorry for what?"  
  
David slapped his head, realizing that he shouldn't have said what he just said to Lizzie. "Uh, nothing, Lizzie. I was just talking to myself, about something that happened to me in the past. Don't worry about it."  
  
"You sound. . .really sad, David. I can hear it in your voice. Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help?"  
  
The soft-spoken concern in Lizzie's soothing voice brought more tears to David's eyes. He didn't know how much longer he could keep talking to Lizzie without completely losing control of his emotions.  
  
Don't leave me, Lizzie. Don't die, don't die, don't die, don't die. . .that's how you can help me, Lizzie, that's how you can help me. . .  
  
"Thanks for your concern, Lizzie, but don't worry, I'm alright."  
  
"You're welcome. But, I can tell from your voice that you're missing someone who's very close and dear to you. I know, because Gordo's voice can get the same way. Like last summer, my family and I went vacationing in Hawaii for three weeks, and when I called Gordo to say hello, the first thing Gordo said was how much he missed me, with the same, sad voice that you have, David. We hadn't ever been apart for so long before. And it was really touching and sweet, and that's why I know in my heart that Gordo will always be there for me." David could hear Gordo in the background sheepishly protesting Lizzie's compliments.  
  
David's heart ached with even greater intensity, as he could actually feel the love from Lizzie' voice seep deep inside his very being, awakening more dormant feelings and memories that he thought he had laid to rest forever.  
  
"You're very . . .insightful, Lizzie. You're right, I am missing my best friend, right now, a friend who died a long time ago. Memories of her are really weighing on my heart right now," said David.  
  
"Ohhhh. . . I'm really sorry, David. She sounds like someone who was really special to you. I can't begin to imagine what it would be like to lose someone like that from your life."  
  
'Yes, she was truly special, the most precious person I'd ever known my entire life. I . . . I-miss you . . . I mean, I mean I miss *her* terribly, I miss her terribly. When I lost her, it was as if a piece of my heart was taken away from me."  
  
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. I wish I could be there with you and give you a hug."  
  
So do I, thought David, so do I. "Thank you, Lizzie. I truly appreciate your thoughts. But, uhh, I don't want to keep you any longer and weigh you down with what I'm going through right now."  
  
"That's no problem! But, you're right, I do have to go. It's been wonderful chatting with you, and I hope to be able to talk with you or even meet with you sometime. Please take good care of yourself, okay, David? And I want you to know that I'll be thinking of you, and wishing you the best."  
  
"Thanks, Lizzie. I will. And, Lizzie . . ."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
Should I tell her? David wondered. Should I tell her what happens to her tomorrow night? Will that prevent the most awful thing that has ever happened to him?  
  
"Lizzie, please take good care of yourself, too. I really enjoyed talking with you." David decided against telling Lizzie the truth. It would probably do nothing except to scare her and worry her needlessly, thought David. Besides, with Gordo's intervention, they would be able to save Lizzie without her ever having to know how close she came to dying at the tender age of sixteen.  
  
"Thanks, David! And here's Gordo again! Take care!!"  
  
"Hi David, it's me, Gordo again. Lizzie's gone, so we're free to talk again about what happens tomorrow."  
  
"Gordo . . . I want to thank you for letting me talk with Lizzie. Oh my god, I still can't believe that for a few moments, I was with her again."  
  
"You're welcome, David. You're welcome. To tell you the truth, it was really hard to hear you guys talking, knowing what's going to happen tomorrow. But, you have me completely convinced that everything you said is true, and I'll do anything, *anything,* to keep Lizzie alive. Just tell me what I need to do."  
  
David heard a measured, confident conviction in Gordo's voice, which made him feel cautiously optimistic, cautiously optimistic that, possibly, just possibly, he would be able to see and be with Lizzie McGuire once again, and that he would never have to feel the horrific grief that has tortured him ever since her death. With that thought, David began to tell Gordo what happened on the fateful night . . 


	6. Chapter Five

FLASHBACK TO 12 YEARS AGO . . . .  
  
On a rainy, stormy Saturday afternoon of July 31, 2003, David received a phone call from Lizzie.  
  
"Hey Gordo!"  
  
"What's up McGuire? Hey, you don't sound very good. You okay?"  
  
"No, not really, and that's why I'm calling. I was supposed to go on a date with Jimmy Smith tonight, but I'm feeling really awful and feverish and I think I'm coming down with something and I hope it isn't pneumonia or something and do you think it might be pneumonia Gordo?"  
  
Gordo laughed at Lizzie's hypochondriatic worrying. "No, Lizzie, calm down, I don't think you have pneumonia. You're just probably coming down with a cold." His smile quickly vanished from his face, however, as he began to think about Lizzie's date with Jimmy. Lizzie had started seeing Jimmy for a week now, and Gordo was intensely jealous of their budding relationship. He tried to deny it even to himself, but each time he found out Lizzie was dating someone or he heard her talking about another boy, a sharp pain would grab at his heart.  
  
"Okay, well that's a relief. Thanks Gordo. But, anyway, I was going to go with Jimmy to this party his brother is throwing for their sister, it's a going away party before she goes off to college but now I'm sick and don't feel like going but I don't want to just hang out at home all by myself and Miranda's visiting her relatives in the city and if you're not doing anything Gordo can you come over with me and we can watch some movies or something, please, please, please?"  
  
Gordo laughed. Lizzie's cold hadn't dampened her ability to speak at a million words per minute. Her precocious, lyrical, sing-songy voice made it virtually impossible for Gordo to ever turn down one of her requests. That's one of the things he loved about her, thought Gordo, the joy she brought to him with her utterly infectious charm.  
  
"Alright, McGuire, alright. How can I say no to a request from a deathly ill woman? I'll tell Larry that I'll watch the Star Wars trilogy with him, again for the umpteenth time, some other weekend. What time should I come over?"  
  
"Ohhh, thank you thank you thank you Gordo! You're such a good friend! Come over around 7:00, and we can order pizza or something for dinner, my treat."  
  
"Great. I'll see you then, Lizzie."  
  
***********************************************************  
  
It was a few minutes to 7:00, and Gordo was approaching the McGuire's home. The sky was still smothered with dark, ominous clouds, but for the moment, they were quietly dormant, as if they were waiting for just the right moment to let loose the rain once more.  
  
As he stepped closer to the front door, he could see that it was ajar. As he came closer, he could hear two people talking, just inside the doorway. Just as he was about to walk up the steps and knock on the door, he heard Lizzie say, "Jimmy, it's so sweet of you to come see me!"  
  
Gordo froze in his tracks. Lizzie was talking to *Jimmy.* With that realization Gordo was taken back in time to that awful moment when he had stumbled onto Lizzie's kiss with Ronnie. Oh no, not again, whispered Gordo, not again. He stood there, transfixed, paralyzed by overwhelming feelings of jealousy, rejection, and loss, horrified at what was happening, yet feeling compelled to eavesdrop on their conversation.  
  
He heard Jimmy respond, "Lizzie, you're the one who's sweet. I'm just gonna really miss you tonight, that's all, so I wanted to drop by and say hello and give you this." Gordo then heard the two kissing, and Gordo felt as his entire being was melting into the ground.  
  
Not again, not again, not again. . .  
  
"Well, considering that you'll probably get sick from kissing me, I think you are a complete idiot, Jimmy Smith," laughed Lizzie.  
  
"I don't care. . . and if I get sick, I know you'll be there to take care of me right, Lizzie?"  
  
"Of course, of course."  
  
"Lizzie, I know we've only been seeing each other a week, but, I already know I really like you and that you're the most beautiful girl I've ever known in my life."  
  
"Ohhhh Jimmy, that's so sweet!"  
  
"But, I do wonder sometimes, what you feel about me. Or really, what you feel about Gordo. I know you guys spend a lot of time with each other. You guys don't have something going on between you two, do you?"  
  
Gordo couldn't believe it could get any worse, but it was. Now, he was about to hear what Lizzie really thought about him, and he feared the worst. He could almost hear in his head what he expected Lizzie to say to Jimmy.  
  
"Oh, don't worry about Gordo, Jimmy. Gordo's my best friend in the whole world, but, that's all, he's just a friend. And believe me, I'm sure he feels the same way about me. I know he used to have a small crush on me when we were in middle school, but nothing ever came of that, and now, I really think of him more like a brother than anything. And really, he doesn't have what you have, Jimmy, with your big green eyes, and curly blonde hair, and your Robert Redford good looks. . . " giggled Lizzie. The two started to kiss again, for what seemed like an eternity for Gordo.  
  
Upon hearing Lizzie's reply to Jimmy, Gordo could feel a tear slowly flow down his right cheek. He was trying desperately to contain his volatile emotions, but they were screaming to be let loose. His hands started to tremble, and he began to feel faint. No, no, no, no . . .  
  
"Alright, I'd like nothing more than to stay with you here all night, Lizzie, but I need to get going. You'll be okay?"  
  
Oh, crap, Jimmy's going to come out the front door at any moment. Gordo composed himself, wiped the tear from his eye, and tried to regain his normal state of being. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then walked up to the door acting as if he had just arrived, and knocked on the open door. "Hey, it's me, Gordo."  
  
"Oh hi Gordo! Hey, this is Jimmy, he's the boy I've been telling you about. Gordo shook Jimmy's hand. This was the first time he had ever met him. Jimmy was six feet tall, with a football player's build.  
  
A tall guy. Figures.  
  
"What's up Gordo? Lizzie's told me a lot about you."  
  
"That's great," said Gordo, with a tinge of sarcasm in his voice.  
  
"Anyway, I really have to run. Lizzie, I'll call you tomorrow? Maybe we can go to the movies when you're feeling better. See you later Gordo," and with that note, Jimmy walked out of the house, jumped into his car, and sped away to his sister's party.  
  
"Hi Gordo, I'm so glad to see you. So, tell me tell me tell me what do you think of Jimmy?"  
  
Gordo stood there, stone-faced.  
  
Lizzie looked at her friend and could see that something was bothering him. "Gordo, are you okay?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, Lizzie, I'm fine. Just hungry that's all. Why don't we order that pizza now?"  
  
"Okay Gordo. You can tell me after we eat what you think about Jimmy."  
  
Great, thought Gordo, I'm going to spend the entire night having to talk to you about your boyfriend. This is going to be torture. "Sure, Lizzie, whatever you want."  
  
*********************************************  
  
It was a few minutes before 8:30, and Lizzie and Gordo were sitting on the couch, having just finished off their pepperoni and mushroom pizza. Lizzie had a blanket draped over her, while Gordo sat on the far end of the couch, silent, deep in ruminating thought. They had decided earlier on to watch a special showing of the Wizard of Oz, which was scheduled to start at 8:30 p.m. It was one of their favorite movies from childhood, and they always tried to watch it whenever it came on television.  
  
Something was terribly wrong between the two friends. They hardly said a word to each other all night, which was completely unusual for them. They typically always had something to talk about. Something's the matter with Gordo, though Lizzie. Why's he being so distant?  
  
"Okay, Gordo, I can't take this silent treatment anymore. I didn't ask you to come here and be all sulky with me. I want you to keep me company, not be some silent stone wall. What's going on?" Right at that moment, the Wizard of Oz started to play on t.v.  
  
"Nothing's the matter, Lizzie. I'm just . . . tired, that's all. Anyway, the movie's starting."  
  
"No, I don't believe you. I know you too well and I *know* when you're upset. Tell me, Gordo, what's wrong?"  
  
Gordo sat there, and started to feel an emotion that he didn't think he would ever feel towards Lizzie . . . he was beginning to feel a surge of pure *anger* flow throughout his entire body. He clenched his jaw, and then he began saying things that he had been desperately trying to hold on all night. "So, Lizzie, I just don't have what Jimmy has, right?"  
  
"What are you talking about, Gordo?"  
  
"No blonde hair, no Robert Redford good looks, nothing, right, Lizzie?"  
  
"Gordo, were you eavesdropping on me and Jimmy???"  
  
"Yeah, and I heard everything you told him. My god Lizzie, you just take me for granted, don't you? I'm your best friend, Gordo, the guy you can use whenever you need him. Good ol reliable Gordo. When your plans fall through with the guy you really want to be with, hey, just call good ol' Gordo, and he'll come running and be at your beck and call. Right, Lizzie?" said Gordo, with a rising anger and tension in his voice. Gordo was starting to scare Lizzie, who had never heard Gordo this way.  
  
"Gordo, you're scaring me."  
  
"Lizzie, you don't get it, do you. I know you don't really care about me, I'm just some convenient, dependable doormat you can always rely on when you can't be with the person you really want to be with."  
  
"Gordo, you're being absolutely ridiculous! You're my best friend since forever! You know I love hanging out with you. Are you getting a brain fever or something, because you're not sounding right."  
  
"Oh, yeah? Then tell me this, Lizzie, who would you rather be spending tonight with, me or Jimmy?"  
  
Silence. "That's not fair, Gordo."  
  
"Just answer me, Lizzie! Just answer me! Me or Jimmy? Who would you rather be spending tonight with?"  
  
"Okay, you want to know the answer, yes, I'd rather be with Jimmy right now. But, that's not because you're not my friend, it's because I really like Jimmy, you know, romantically, and I think that something might develop between us; it doesn't mean I don't like you as a friend, Gordo."  
  
Lizzie's answer only added fuel to Gordo's jealous anger. "I knew it. I knew it. I'm nothing to you, am I?"  
  
"Gordo! Are you listening to me? That's not what I said at all!!"  
  
Why is this hurting so much, thought Gordo. Ever word that Lizzie was saying was turning Gordo's world upside down, as he was finally grappling with what he thought was the awful truth. . .that Lizzie would never love him in the way that Gordo loved Lizzie. And that realization was making him want to do something to Lizzie that he thought was impossible for him to do . . he wanted do nothing more than to hurt Lizzie.  
  
"You know, Lizzie, I'm starting to realize some truths. And one thing I'm realizing is, and I hate to say this, but, I don't think I should be hanging around with you anymore. I'm realizing that you're really not the friend that I thought you were."  
  
Lizzie stared at Gordo with a dumbfounded shock. It was as if someone had punched her in the face. "Go-Gordo, what are you saying?" said Lizzie softly.  
  
"I'm mean, look Lizzie, this stuff happens all time. Friends grow apart. We really don't have much in common. I like school, your favorite class is still lunch. You like talking about J-Lo's latest hairdo, I like talking about Alfred Hitchcock's cinematic techniques in Psycho," said Gordo, in a steely cold, nonchalant voice.  
  
Tears began streaming down Lizzie's face. "Gordo . . .why are you doing this?"  
  
"Because it's the truth, Lizzie. You know it and I know it. We've been growing apart since high school started. I think I need friends with more depth, with someone with whom I can carry on an intelligent, adult conversation with. And you need someone you can talk with about make-up and the latest celebrity gossip." As Gordo finished his sentence, a part of himself was dying, as he could not believe what he was saying to Lizzie. What am I doing? What am I doing? Thought Gordo. I'm so sorry, Lizzie, I'm so sorry, I don't know what's going on, I don't know what's happening to me, I'm so sorry . . .  
  
An eerie silence fell between the two friends. The television was still on, and Gordo could hear the sounds of a tornado emanating from the televsion, as the Wizard of Oz was still on screen, and the tornado was now carrying Dorothy to the land of Oz. Gordo looked at his watch. It was 9:00 p.m.  
  
Tears were still falling from Lizzie's face, but now her face, which was once full of emotions, was now flat, emotionless, as if all her life and energy had been deflated out of her. In a soft, dazed, monotone voice, Lizzie said, "Gordo, I need to go for a drive, okay? I need to clear my head. What you've been telling me really hurts, and I just need to sort out my emotions. You can stay here if you want. I'll be back in a little bit." Their conversation was punctuated by flashing lightning and heavy thunder outside, as the storm was starting up again.  
  
"Lizzie, I'm sorry, I don't know what I was saying. I didn't mean it."  
  
"Yes, yes you did, Gordo. I could feel it in your voice. I can't believe. . . that's how . . .th-that. . .that's how you *really* think about me!" Lizzie started weeping. She threw off her blanket, grabbed her car keys from the table, and walked out the door in the pouring rain.  
  
"Lizzie, wait!" Gordo jumped off the couch and ran outside.  
  
He caught Lizzie a few yards from her car. The rain was beating down on them with a fury and vengeance, but the two didn't notice, the two didn't care. He grabbed Lizzie's arm. "Lizzie, I didn't mean what I said! I'm really sorry!"  
  
"Let go of me!!" Lizzie snapped his arm away from Gordo. "I *hate* you Gordo! I hate you!! I can't believe you said those things about me!!"  
  
"Lizzie . . ."  
  
"Just leave me alone, okay, Gordo? You said you don't want to hang out with me, well, you've got your wish! Now, I just need to go for a drive, okay?"  
  
"ok . . .I'll be waiting for you when you get back. I'm so sorry. . ."  
  
"Gordo, stop it. I don't want to hear your apologies right now, okay? I'll be back in a little bit, and we, uh, can sort stuff out, alright?"  
  
"ok. Be careful Lizzie, the road's are slick out there."  
  
Lizzie didn't answer Gordo. She turned her back and walked into her car and drove off into the storm.  
  
Gordo stood there, motionless, not realizing yet that would be the last moment he would see Lizzie alive.  
  
Gordo waited for Lizzie at the McGuire's home, expecting her back any moment. That moment never came. Lizzie had left in her car shortly after 9:00 p.m. At 11:00 p.m., Gordo received a call from the police, informing him that, at approximately 10:00 p.m., Lizzie McGuire had lost control of her car on the slick Pacific Coast Highway, and that she had crashed her car head on into the cliffside. She had been killed instantly.  
  
With that phone call, Gordo's world forever crumbled into a mass of regret and guilt.  
  
************************************************************************  
  
David had just finished telling Gordo in vivid detail everything that happened that night. He knew how hard it would be for Gordo to take, but he had to know, in order to prevent Lizzie's death.  
  
"That's unbelievable, David. I can't believe I did or am going to do all that. I can't believe I hurt Lizzie like that."  
  
"Well, we're *not* going to do all those things. We're going to change history."  
  
"What should I do? Should I not go to Lizzie's tomorrow night?"  
  
"No, you've got to be there, to make sure she doesn't go driving on that night. You know how she likes to drive around just to clear her thoughts about something. You've got to be there to make sure she stays at home tonight."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"But, what I want you to do is this . . .instead of arriving at 7:00 p.m., arrive a little later so you miss seeing Lizzie with Jimmy. That's what set me off that night, just catching them two together and hearing them talk about me, about us. Jimmy left shortly after 7:00, so try to get there around 7:30 or so. Then do everything you can to keep Lizzie at home, you got that?"  
  
"Alright, David. I'll do my best."  
  
David and Gordo said goodbye to one another, and scheduled to talk briefly the next day to go over their plans. They were positive that they could keep talking to each other over the ham radio so long as the mysterious thunderstorm kept itself up, which it was supposed to do for the next few days.  
  
The next day, David and Gordo talked on schedule, both relieved to know that they could still communicate with each other. They went over their plans, and then said goodbye, and Gordo promised to check in with David once the night was over and Lizzie had been saved.  
  
***********************************************  
  
Just as David had told him, on Saturday afternoon, Gordo received a phone call from Lizzie, asking him to come over. He said that he would, but he told her he would come by around 7:30 instead of 7:00.  
  
Gordo approached the McGuire's house a few minutes before 7:30. As he came closer, he could see the door was ajar. As he came even closer, he could hear voices in the hallway. It was Lizzie, and she was still talking with Jimmy . . .  
  
Gordo froze in the walkway, wondering what was happening. Why was Jimmy still here, wondered Gordo? He should have left a while ago. Then Gordo realized their mistake . . . in David's world, Jimmy had left Lizzie's house because Gordo had been there to interrupt them. But, because he hadn't shown up at 7:00, what it meant was that Lizzie and Jimmy were able to keep on talking with each other.  
  
Oh, no, thought Gordo, this isn't going the way its supposed to . . . and he stood there, in the walkway, paralyzed, transfixed by the conversation he was hearing inside . . .  
  
************************************************************************  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks for the reviews on this chapter, I truly, truly appreciate them. I just want to add that I felt emotionally drained after writing this chapter, as I felt myself getting emotionally affected by what I was writing. So I hope the intensity of the situation between Lizzie and Gordo came across to you, the reader, and that you believed that what Gordo said to Lizzie is something that would make a friend feel extremely hurt and wounded.  
  
A difficult part about writing this chapter was to make sure I wrote the fight scene in a way that you would believe that *Gordo* could feel so angry, jealous, and hurt to be able to say such things to his best friend Lizzie. I hope I succeeded in making the scene realistic. I know from my own experience, paradoxically and sadly, that sometimes people tend to hurt people that they are closest to and love dearly.  
  
Anyway, again, thanks for the reviews, they truly inspire and motivate me to keep on writing both for myself and for all of you. For those of you who haven't reviewed my story yet, what are you waiting for? : ) I'd love to hear your thoughts!  
  
I'll try to update soon, I have the outlines of the next chapter in mind already; I'm going to entitle it "Deja Vu All Over Again." You'll see when you read it what I mean by the title. So stay tuned to see if Gordo is able to save Lizzie . . .  
  
Till the next chapter, HM. 


	7. Chapter Six Deja Vu All Over Again

Author's Note: Here's Chapter Six, entitled "Deja Vu All Over Again." Please read and review.  
  
And, for those of you who are wondering if this story will end up with a happy ending, I don't want to give the ending away, but what I can say is, have faith! Have faith that everything that's happening makes sense and will make sense in the end. And I say that not only about my story, but about life in general.  
  
Albert Einstein once said that there's only two ways of approaching life: one approach is to think that nothing in life is a miracle, and the other approach is to think that *everything* in life is a miracle. Well, this story definitely is about the second approach to life. . . . again, please read and review. Thanks! -- HM.  
  
________________________________________________________________________  
  
Gordo stood there, his feet firmly planted in the pathway leading up to the McGuire's house, unable to move, deathly afraid of what was occurring just inside the door, yet, overcome with an insatiable curiosity to learn about what was going on inside.  
  
"Okay, Lizzie, I hate this, but I really have to get going now," said Jimmy. "But I'm really glad I got to spend this extra time with you."  
  
About a half-hour ago, just as Jimmy was about to leave for his sister's party, he got a call on his cell phone from his sister, who told him that she was running late, and needed another half-hour before she was ready to be picked up. Jimmy took that extra half-hour to spend more precious time with Lizzie, a girl he felt enormous affection for.  
  
"Oh, I'll miss you, Jimmy," sighed Lizzie.  
  
Gordo then heard the two kiss, and all he could do was cringe, and feel a quiet, forlorn sadness drape over his heart. Oh no, Gordo thought, I'm going through exactly what David went through . . . I can't go through this, I can't go through this . . .  
  
"Lizzie?" said Jimmy.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Okay, I know I'm being a neurotic jerk, but, just reassure me here . . .there's really nothing between you and Gordo?"  
  
Gordo felt his heart tighten as he heard Jimmy's word. No, no, I can't believe this is happening, it's happening all over again . . and Gordo braced himself for what he knew he was about to hear.  
  
"Jimmy! I told you before, and I'll tell you again, there's absolutely *nothing* going on between me and Gordo!! He's just my friend, Jimmy, I repeat, he's just my friend. Got it?" Lizzie let out a sarcastic, scolding smile, then gave Jimmy an affectionate "evil" eye, and then wrapped her arms around him and gave him a kiss. "Do you believe me now, Mr. Smith?"  
  
"Uh, yeah. But, uh, I think I need some more reassuring, if you know what I mean," winked Jimmy, and the two kissed again.  
  
Gordo heard all of this going on, and he could only mutter to himself in a half-trance state, it's deja vu all over again, it's deja vu all over again. Gordo could feel all the energy drain away from his body, as his mind was bombarded with thoughts saying to him over and over again, "you never had a chance, Gordo, you never had a chance." He wanted nothing more than for this moment to end. But, it was not yet over . . .  
  
"Lizzie, I want to tell you something," said Jimmy.  
  
"Okay, tell me!"  
  
"Lizzie, I know it's been only a week, but I already know this in my heart. . . I'm falling in love with you, Lizzie McGuire, you are the most amazing most beautiful girl, and I'd love to go steady with you."  
  
"oh Jimmy," whispered Lizzie.  
  
"And look, I'm not expecting you to feel the same way, I just needed to tell you how I feel."  
  
Lizzie embraced Jimmy again and held onto him with all of her strength, worried that he would disappear and go away forever. "I really like you, too, Jimmy, and well, I just need some time, but, you are the sweetest, most wonderful boy I've ever known, and well, we'll see, okay?" And Lizzie reached forward and gave Jimmy another deep kiss.  
  
Gordo's mind whirled, as he felt himself detaching from his body. This is so surreal, mused Gordo. I can't believe how much this hurts . . .  
  
"Okay, I really have to go now. I'll call you tomorrow, okay Lizzie? And maybe we can do catch a movie when you're feeling better."  
  
"Okay! And have fun at your sister's party! Tell her I say hello, and as for you, Jimmy Smith, you'd better not stop thinking about me, you got it?" commanded Lizzie.  
  
"No problem." Jimmy kissed Lizzie for the last time, and he stepped out the doorway to see Gordo, standing just right outside, with an odd blank look on his face.  
  
"Hey, what's up, Gordo!"  
  
Gordo knew that Jimmy was coming out of the house, but he didn't have the energy to react. He could only stand there, helpless, hoping desperately that someone would awaken him and tell him this was all just a bad nightmare.  
  
"Hey . . ."  
  
Lizzie peered out of her doorway, saw Gordo, and said, "Hey Gordo! Did you just get here?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, Lizzie, I just got here," said Gordo, in a low, deflated, monotone voice.  
  
"Well, Gordo, it's nice to meet you, I'm Jimmy, but I've got to run, we should hang out sometime. Later. See ya Lizzie, I'll call you!" said Jimmy as he raced to his car.  
  
"Gordo, don't just stand there, come in!" barked Lizzie, with a welcoming smile on her face. She had missed her best friend, and she was glad, as always, to see him again.  
  
Gordo nodded in acknowledgement, and then he began taking small, reluctant steps into the McGuire's house. He felt like he was a death row prisoner walking to the electric chair. . .  
  
**********************************************************  
  
It was a few minutes before 8:30 p.m., and Lizzie and Gordo were sitting on the couch, waiting for the Wizard of Oz to start. The pizza they had ordered had arrived 25 minutes ago, and they both were finishing off their last piece of ham and pineapple pizza.  
  
The two had been deathly silent the entire time, and Lizzie was concerned about her friend. I wonder what's wrong with Gordo?  
  
Gordo, meanwhile, was trying desperately to keep his emotions in check and his mouth shut. He knew he needed to make sure that he didn't get into a fight with Lizzie, and despite the titanic emotional turmoil churning inside his heart, he was determined to keep it all in and make sure nothing happened to his best friend. I'm *not* going to kill Lizzie, I'm *not* going to kill Lizzie, muttered Gordo silently.  
  
As Lizzie finished off her slice of pizza, she reached over, touched Gordo's arm, and asked, "Okay, Gordo, are you okay? You seem really . . .quiet, and sad. Is there something the matter?"  
  
Gordo flinched from Lizzie's touch. "uh, what? I'm fine, Lizzie, I'm fine. I'm just, uh, tired, that's all."  
  
As Gordo finished his sentence, the Wizard of Oz began playing on t.v.  
  
"Gordo, I know you from the inside out. There's something wrong with you and I know it. And I'm worried about you. Are you okay?"  
  
"Look Lizzie, I said I'm fine, okay?" snapped Gordo.  
  
Lizzie was taken aback by Gordo's sharp response. "Okay, Gordo, now I'm absolutely know that something's wrong. What's up?"  
  
Before Gordo could respond, the phone began to ring. Lizzie picked up the cordless phone and answered it. "Hello? Oh, hi Jimmy!"  
  
Gordo solemnly watched Lizzie's eyes light up upon hearing Jimmy's voice. He could tell from her body language how much she liked Jimmy.  
  
"Are you having a good time? Did you say hi to your sister for me?" A few moments passed as Lizzie listened intently to Jimmy's response.  
  
"Ohmigosh, you are so sweet Jimmy! That's so beautiful Jimmy. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I adore you so much!"  
  
Gordo had no idea what Jimmy had said to Lizzie, but he knew that Lizzie was loving and taking in everything he was saying to her.  
  
Lizzie then suddenly looked Gordo straight in the eye, then said into the phone, "Jimmy, I've told you a hundred times already, Gordo's my bestest friend in the world, but you know you're the only boy I like, you know, in that way!" giggled Lizzie, a bit too embarrassed to tell Jimmy exactly what she meant, especially with Gordo listening in on her conversation.  
  
Gordo took Lizzie's glance and he suddenly began feeling a dark, intense emotion begin to arise within. He was starting to feel *angry* with Lizzie, the same anger that David had felt and had told him about. He knew Lizzie's life was at stake, but at this moment, all he could feel was the raw, electric power of his jealous emotions.  
  
"Okay, I'll miss you too, Jimmy. Have fun, and call me tomorrow!!" said Lizzie, as she hung up the phone. She turned to Gordo, excited about her budding relationship with Jimmy, and eager to tell Gordo about how much she liked Jimmy, wanting her best friend to enjoy her happiness along with her.  
  
"ohmigosh, Gordo, that was Jimmy and he said such the sweetest things to me!" gushed Lizzie.  
  
Gordo couldn't take it anymore. "Look Lizzie, I just want to watch the movie, I don't really want to hear you go on and on about that Jimmy guy. If you ask me, I think he's a real loser anyway."  
  
Gordo's words cut through Lizzie's heart like a sharp knife. Lizzie's joy and enthusiasm quickly evaporated, as she turned to realize just how sullen, and upset, her friend was.  
  
"Gordo, that was an awful thing to say. What's the matter with you?"  
  
"Nothing's the matter with me, Lizzie, except I think you're setting yourself up for getting really hurt, that's all."  
  
"What are you talking about, Gordo?" asked Lizzie, in a deeply concerned voice.  
  
"Jimmy, he's a jock, Lizzie. He's one of the popular kids, like Kate and Claire. He's nothing but trouble. And frankly, I'm seriously disappointed in you for falling for a dumb jock like that."  
  
Lizzie said nothing, stunned by the angry tone and words expressed by Gordo.  
  
"Come on, Lizzie, don't act like you don't know what I'm talking about."  
  
"You-you're disappointed in me, Gordo?"  
  
"Yeah! I mean, wouldn't you be disappointed in me if I started going ga-ga over Kate?"  
  
"But, Jimmy's different, he's not like Kate at all."  
  
Gordo suddenly lost all control of his emotions. "Well, that's because you're blind and clueless, Lizzie. Come on, wake up! That guy's a complete jerk! He's just using you, you know that! He doesn't mean any of those things he's telling you!"  
  
Gordo, what are you doing? You're doing everything David told you not to do! Lizzie's life's at stake, stop this right now! But there was nothing able to stop Gordo now from unleashing all the hurt, all the anger, all the jealously upon the girl he loved.  
  
"Go-Gordo, why are you saying these things?" whispered Lizzie, as tears began streaming down her soft, rosy cheeks.  
  
"Because I'm trying to *protect* you Lizzie! That's why!" yelled Gordo. "I'm trying to make sure you don't get hurt, can't you understand that?"  
  
Lizzie averted her gaze from Gordo's angry eyes. She responded, softly, "so, you're trying to protect me by saying all these awful things about me and my boyfriend?"  
  
Upon hearing Lizzie call Jimmy her boyfriend, Gordo lost absolutely all control over his raging emotions. "Yes, that's exactly what I'm trying to do, Lizzie. Can't you get it through your thick blonde head, that guy is a complete *loser!* And, if you see something in that jerk, then, what is it saying about *you* Lizzie? Huh, tell me? What does it say about you when you fall for a dumb jock like that?"  
  
An eerie silence fell between the two friends. The television was still on, and Gordo could hear the sounds of a tornado emanating from the television, as the Wizard of Oz was still on screen, and the tornado was now carrying Dorothy to the land of Oz. Gordo looked at his watch. It was 9:00 p.m. Oh, no, don't tell me that it's going to happen again . . .  
  
It was happening again . . .  
  
A despondent, tearful Lizzie broke the silence, saying, "Gordo, look, I need to go for a drive, okay? I think I need some air, and some, uh, space, and time, to think about what you said." Lizzie slowly got up from the couch, put aside her blanket, and began walking over to the table to pick up her car keys. "You can stay here if you want, Gordo. I'll be back in a little while."  
  
The reality of what was happening, again, snapped Gordo out of his angry trance. No, no, Lizzie, you can't go. . . .  
  
"Lizzie, wait, don't go, please don't go. I'm really sorry, I really don't know what I was saying."  
  
Lizzie burst into tears, and screamed back at Gordo, "Oh, yes you do Gordo! You knew exactly what you were saying! Ohmigod, I can't believe that's the way you really think about me, and about Jimmy. You are so awful Gordo, I can't believe you said those things!" Lizzie then grabbed the keys from the table, and stormed out the door into the pouring rain.  
  
Gordo felt himself overcome with paralysis, as he felt his feet gluing themselves to the floor. He couldn't move. As he watched Lizzie walk outside, he was overcome with feelings of utter helplessness.  
  
Oh no, I'm sorry David, I'm so sorry David, I messed up, I messed up . . .it's happening all over again . . .it's my fault, it's my fault, it's my fault. . . . 


	8. Chapter Seven

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews!! Here's the next chapter, from David's POV. Please, please, please, read and review!! Thanks. HM.  
  
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David anxiously paced around his living room, deeply mired in thought. He kept checking his watch, waiting, wondering when Gordo would contact him again and tell him that everything was alright, because Lizzie was still alive.  
  
Although he had looked as watch only a few minutes ago, he again felt the urgent need to see what time it was . . .7:13 p.m. Almost time, almost time . .  
  
David kept walking around in nervous circles for a few minutes, then realized how hungry and thirsty he was since he hadn't eaten all day. He walked over to the refrigerator and grabbed the container of orange juice. As he was pouring the orange juice into a glass, a sharp pain startled his head, forcing him to lose grip of both the juice container and the glass. The plastic container bounced several times on the kitchen floor, finally settled down, and then began letting the liquid pour away onto the kitchen floor. The glass fell, shattering into several orange juice tainted pieces of glass.  
  
David, however, didn't even notice the orange juice on the floor running in and around his feet, as both his eyes and mouth were wide open with what was transpiring in his mind. He didn't have to wait for Gordo to tell him what happened, because he was seeing everything transpire in his head. David was seeing his life history change before his eyes. He was beginning to "remember" memories of his new past, a past that of course was completely new to him. And each new moment in his life was unfolding one moment at a time . . . it's like I'm watching a movie of my own life, thought David, as he began to see himself walking out of his house 15 minutes before 7:30 p.m. and heading towards the McGuire's residence.  
  
David was completely mesmerized and hypnotized by the images that were popping into his head. What was even stranger was that David's old memories did not disappear, they weren't being replaced by his new memories; but instead, both old and new stood side by side in his mind. It's like those sci-fi stories about alternative universes, thought David. He always wondered what life would've been like if things had turned out differently, if Lizzie had lived, if he and Lizzie got together; he always loved to play the "what if" game in his mind. Now, he didn't have to imagine "what if," because he was about to see his alternative life reveal itself right before his eyes.  
  
As the orange juice started to settle right next to feet, David finally extricated himself from the kitchen floor, wiped his feet off in the bathroom, then wandered towards the living room couch. As he flopped onto the couch, he could see Gordo reaching the McGuire residence. The door was ajar, and as he saw Gordo walk up to the door, he saw Gordo stop dead in his tracks.  
  
David abruptly sat up on the couch. Oh no, oh my god, no. Jimmy's still there! He grabbed the sides of his head with both his hands, reeling from shock. What's he still doing here? What's going on? Why hadn't he left already? David looked at his watch, which read 7:27 p.m. He should've been gone by now, he should've been gone! Then, at the same moment that Gordo realized their mistake, David realized it too . . .oh, man, Jimmy left when he did because I had gotten there to interrupt them! So, now because Gordo arrived later, it means Jimmy and Lizzie kept on talking.  
  
Dammit, I should've realized that possibility. It's my fault, it's my fault, muttered David, It's going to be deja vu all over again.  
  
David was right. He watched his younger version of himself stand there in front of the doorway, listening intently to Jimmy and Lizzie talk, and kiss, and David could feel a part of himself dying, once again.  
  
Ohmigod, I have to go through this again, I have to go through this again . . .  
  
David sat there, watching himself eavesdrop in on Jimmy and Lizzie for the second time. What he heard between Jimmy and Lizzie was slightly different from what had happened originally, but the differences only made David's suffering that much more painful. Oh great, I get to feel my heart get ripped out in two similar but unique ways. Oh, if there's a God, you sure know how to come up with creative ways to make us all suffer.  
  
But, even though Lizzie's interactions with Jimmy were slightly different, Gordo's emotional response to their conversation was exactly the same in both timelines. For David, it was even worse, because not only was he feeling the emotions Gordo was feeling, since he was Gordo, but, he was also suffering and empathizing with his younger self, agonizing and beating himself up because Gordo was going through the same thing he had gone through, even though this all could've been prevented with some better foresight.  
  
I'm sorry Gordo, I messed up, I messed you, you shouldn't be having to go through this. Please forgive me . . .  
  
David continued to sit on his couch, watching the movie of his life. The darkened sky outside made the inside of his house pitch black, but he didn't care, he didn't even notice. Tears started to stream from his eyes, as he saw himself sitting there on the couch, eating pizza with Lizzie. Oh, she looks so beautiful, whispered David. He could see Lizzie as if she was sitting there right next to him, because Gordo was gazing so intently at her, concentrating on all of Lizzie's minute features and movements; David took in images and sounds of her deep, hypnotic eyes, her graceful blonde hair, the adorable smacking sound she made when she licked her fingers clean after she had finished off a pizza slice, the occasional heart-melting smile that she would throw Gordo's way, and the lyrical, enchanting sound of her voice. It was amazing to see Lizzie again, to be with her again; it was as if he was right there with her, it was as if she was alive, once again.  
  
The images were too much for David to handle. I've missed you so much, Lizzie . . . and David buried his hands in his face and begin to weep, completely overcome with grief.  
  
He also was weeping because he could feel Gordo desperately trying to control his emotions, to not let his jealousy make history repeat itself. He could feel Gordo's internal conflict, the turmoil beating him up from the inside. And all David could do was watch things happen. C'mon Gordo, you can do it, you can do it, keep it together man, keep it together, this for Lizzie, remember? Her life depends on it!  
  
But, deep down, David felt a growing sense of helplessness, as he began to feel like they were doomed against the unrelenting force of fate. A sudden dark realization creeped into his consciousness. . . ohmigod, it's going to happen all over again. With that thought, he saw the Wizard of Oz begin to play on television, and he closed his eyes and braced himself for the worst.  
  
And it did to start to happen, once again. Gordo and Lizzie began fighting. . .  
  
As David continued to watch his memories, he noticed that the tenor of the fight was somewhat different from the original fight, as Lizzie seemed less angry and more in despair at what was taking place between her and Gordo. Either way, David knew what was coming, and he knew that for Gordo, the emotions would be exactly the same. . .   
  
David felt the energy drain out of him, as feelings of hopelessness started to engulf his entire being. I don't get it, he thought. Why would God, the Universe, or whomever, give me the chance to change history only to make sure everything turned out exactly the same? Why? Is this some cruel sick twisted cosmic joke? Am I going to have to live through Lizzie's death again?  
  
No, no, no, no!! This is not FAIR!! This is not RIGHT!!! screamed David at the top of his lungs. Yet, his cries seemingly went unheard by the universe, as around 9:00 p.m., he saw Lizzie grab the car keys and march outside to her car in the driving rain. He also saw Gordo standing in the living room, just watching Lizzie walk out the door, as if his feet were rooted into the floor . . .  
  
It's deja vu all over again, muttered David, awash in despair . . . .  
  
David's moment of blackness came to an abrupt end when the crackling sound of thunder boomed loudly outside and startled him awake from his depressed trance state. No, no, it's not going to happen again. He shook his head, curled his fist with determination, and muttered to himself, okay, Gordo, I don't know if you can hear this, but *wake up, man!* Don't just stand there, go after her, now! We can do this Gordo, we can do this, we can make everything right again, we can make it the way it should be, with Lizzie going on to live the life she deserves to live. Come on now, get up the strength, get up the courage, move your feet, dammit! This is for Lizzie, Gordo, this is for Lizzie, we have to do this for Lizzie, now move, move, move, MOVE!!  
  
With that last thought, with that last attempt to give his younger self the courage to act, David sat back on the couch, and waited, with a small sense of hope, to see what would happen next. . . . 


	9. Chapter Eight

As Gordo stood there, in the middle of the McGuire's living room, feeling paralyzed, he watched Lizzie march out the door to her car, which was parked just outside the garage. What was happening was all very surreal to Gordo, because it looked as if Lizzie was walking in instant replay slow motion.  
  
This is just a bad dream, rationalized Gordo. It's not really happening. I haven't really been in contact with a 28 year old version of me, because that's just not possible, and there's no way Lizzie is going to die tonight. That can't happen, no way, nuh-uh, because I am in love with her, and there's no way that I'm going to lose the love of my life before we even have a chance to build a life together. This is all a dream, that's it, this is all a dream, and I'm going to wake up from this nightmare any time now . . .  
  
As Gordo was about to completely lose touch with what was going on before his eyes, he suddenly heard a voice intruding into his sleepy, hypnotic haze. It was a firm, determined voice, a voice that was trying to wake him up. The voice sounded a lot like his own, but it felt like it was a voice that was coming from the outside somewhere, and it was much deeper than his own voice. The voice exuded a confident urgency, and it kept saying to him, wake up, wake up, move, move, move, move, save Lizzie, save Lizzie, save Lizzie, *move* Gordo, move!  
  
As he listened intently to the *Voice* exhorting him to action, an earth shattering loud boom pierced every fiber in Gordo's being. It felt as if his entire body had hit by a bulldozer.  
  
Whoa! Whispered Gordo. The thunderous noise woke Gordo from his helpless trance. He shook his head violently, trying to wipe away the cobwebs from his mind. What the hell am I doing? Wake up Gordo, and move, move, move, move!!! You've got to stop Lizzie!!  
  
A surge of energy rushed through his body, propelling him out the door and into the driving rain. As soon as he stepped out of the house, Gordo felt like he was being pelted with thousands of wet, bitterly cold, piercing, stinging little pebbles. Gordo could hardly see as black sheets of rain completely shrouded and obscured his vision. As he peered out into the rain drenched, pitch black night, his eyes caught her slowly but steadily heading towards her car, which was parked out on the street.  
  
As he ran towards Lizzie, he almost felt himself slip on the wet grassy lawn in front of the McGuire's house, but he was able to maintain his balance and reach Lizzie before she got to her car. He quickly grabbed her left arm. Lizzie instantly whirled around and peered straight into Gordos eyes.  
  
Her hair was completely soaked, as rain and tear drops hastily flowed down her face. Gordo was startled by the expression on Lizzie's face, as a fiercely determined mix of anger and sadness peered back at him. She looked weary and worn down, and Gordo's heart ached at seeing the deep sadness in Lizzie's eyes.  
  
As soon as their eyes met each other, her eyes sharpened into a sharp, furious, stare. She snapped her arm away from Gordo's grip as she yelled, "Let go of me, Gordo!"  
  
Gordo was stunned by Lizzie's anger. It was so weird to be with Lizzie when she was so upset with him.  
  
He shook off her anger and said, "Lizzie, please don't go. Let's go back inside the house and talk about what happened!" Gordo was yelling at the top of his lungs, but he could barely hear himself as the heavy rainfall smashing into the grass and pavement made everything so difficult to hear.  
  
"No, Gordo, we've got nothing to talk about. Okay? Now, just let me go!" Lizzie began to turn away from Gordo to walk away to her car, but Gordo again reached for her arm.  
  
"Lizzie please please listen to me . . ."  
  
Lizzie again whipped her arm away from Gordo's grip. "Get off of *me* Gordo! Okay! Just get off of me!" screamed Lizzie, with pure venom in her eyes and voice. "Can't you understand, I just don't want to be anywhere near you right now! I can't stand the sight of you, Gordo, so *just* *leave* *me* alone!!"  
  
Lizzie again began to march to her car, and Gordo, without thinking, reached out, grabbed a hold of her with both of his arms. Just as he had his arms around her, Gordo slipped on the wet grass, and his momentum pushed both of them towards the ground. Gordo quickly realized what was happening, and he began twisting his body so that his body would hit the ground first to make sure that Lizzie would fall safely on top of him.  
  
He succeeded with his body contortions, and he cringed as his body smack into the wet grass. He then felt Lizzie's body fall on top of him. Oooffff.  
  
Even though he was in intense pain, Gordo made sure to hold tightly onto Lizzie with both his arms, to make sure she didn't hurt herself.  
  
Lizzie was now laying on top of him, with his arms still firmly wrapped around her body. Her face was but a breath's length away from Gordo's, as their noses were nearly touching each other. She stared straight into his eyes, took a deep breath, then said, "Gordo, what are you doing?? Let me go!" Lizzie squirmed, trying to get away. But Gordo just wouldn't let go.  
  
"No, Lizzie, I'm not gonna let you," said Gordo, as rain drops dripped from Lizzie's face straight into Gordo's eyes. As he felt his back begin to soak with water, he looked at Lizzie's face, and while he completely terrified over what was happening, for a brief moment, everything become absolutely still and quiet, as if the rain's sound had been turned off. He gazed into Lizzie's rain soaked face and hair, and marveled at how absolutely beautiful she was. Her sadness only gave her face more character. In the cold, wet darkness, her beauty seemed so pure, so raw, so real, thought Gordo. Oh my god, she takes my breath away. . . .  
  
As Gordo was beginning to fall into a dreamy daze, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in his right thigh. "Ouch!" screamed Gordo. Lizzie had taken her knee and rammed it into Gordo's leg. The sudden shock of the pain forced Gordo to release his hold of Lizzie, and Lizzie immediately took advantage by jumping up off of him. As Gordo tried to reach out and grab hold of her again, she realized what he was trying to do and quickly stomped her foot into Gordo's stomach. She hated to do it, but she knew she had to in order to get free. She tried not to put all her force into it, because she didn't want Gordo to get hurt, but she put enough force to prevent Gordo from grabbing a hold of her again.  
  
"Oww!!"  
  
"Serves you right, Gordo!" said Lizzie as she sprinted to her car.  
  
"No, Lizzie, wait!" yelled Gordo from the ground. He sat up straight, tried to shake off the pain in his leg and stomach, then got up to go after Lizzie once more.  
  
Lizzie had reached her car door. She was fumbling with her keys, desperately trying to find the key that would let her inside her car.  
  
Gordo was able to reach her before she could open her car door. He grabbed hold of her arm once again, but Lizzie realized what he was trying to do and she pushed her body back into Gordo's body, forcing him to slip and fall onto the wet grass. She had no idea why Gordo was behaving this way. Why won't he just leave me alone?  
  
Lizzie opened her car door and climbed inside the driver's seat. She was drenching wet, but she didn't care. She flipped on the headlights and turned on the ignition. The car roared to life. As she was about to put her car into drive, she was barraged with a pounding on her car window. She turned to her left and saw Gordo, slamming his fists into the window, trying desperately to get Lizzie's attention. "Lizzie! Please don't go! Please!! I'm so sorry for everything I said! Lizzie!!" Gordo's voice was muffled, and she could barely hear what he was saying. He was relentless, as he kept pounding on the window as if he were a perpetual motion machine.  
  
Lizzie looked at Gordo, and she could see the pure fear and intensity in Gordo's eyes. What's wrong with him, she wondered? She suddenly began to feel anxious, as Gordo's anxiety and fear seeped through the window and into her heart. Why is Gordo acting this way? What's gotten into him?  
  
She thought about just driving away, but she hesitated, and even though she didn't want to, she pushed the button and had the window come down half way. In opening her window, the absolutely deafening sound of the pouring rain crashed into her face. She looked at Gordo, and said as calmly as she could, "Gordo, I'm only going to ask you once. Step away from the car and just let me go, okay?" pleaded Lizzie.  
  
"No, no, no, Lizzie, you can't go, you can't go!! Please, please, for me, Lizzie, just get out of the car, and let's go back inside, okay? Please?"  
  
Lizzie gazed into Gordo's rain drenched face as he pleaded with her, and he saw an expression on his face that she had only seen once before . . . it looked like Gordo was. . . .grieving; it looked like Gordo was in mourning, as if he had lost someone dear to him. No, no, that's not quite it, thought Lizzie. It's more like he knows he's about to lose someone he loves, forever. It was a look of anticipated loss, of anticipated loneliness and suffering. It was the same look on his face that he had when he had just learned that his grandfather had terminal cancer and had only a few months to live.  
  
And, upon seeing his face, for a moment, for but a brief moment, her heart opened up again, and she wanted to reach out, hug Gordo, and comfort him. But, that feeling lasted but a half-second, and then she remembered, in vivid detail, all the things Gordo had said to her just a few moments ago, and once again, her only desire was to get away as far as she could from her best friend.  
  
"No, Gordo," snapped Lizzie. "You are so awful, Gordo, I hate you so much right now!! I just need some space, okay? Let me just think things over and I'll see you in a little bit. Okay?" said Lizzie, as she pushed the button to raise her car window up. As the window went up, the intensity in Gordo's face increased exponentially. "No, no, no, wait, wait, wai-" Gordo's last word was rendered mute as the window closed completely. Lizzie averted her eyes away from Gordo, shifted her car from park into drive.  
  
Gordo saw what was happening, and everything in him completely snapped. He lost control of all his emotions. He began pounding on the car window with a furious passion, and he screamed at the top of his lungs, "Lizzie, please don't go please don't go!! Stop the car right now Lizzie! Stop the car right now! Please please please I know I screwed up and I know you're upset with me and I deserve it but please listen to me right now you have to! If you go off right now I know something terrible is going to happen, I just know it!!" Gordo stopped talking momentarily to gasp for some air. But he never took his eyes off Lizzie. Their eyes made contact, and he could see that what he was saying was reaching her. He took another big gulp of air then let loose his passion once again.  
  
But, just as he was about to speak, he could feel the car moving away from him. He was absolutely dumbfounded. Oh no, oh no, oh no . . . . As the car slowly inched away from him, Gordo shook off the paralysis that was trying to subdue him, and began running to keep up with the car. As the car was about to leave the drive way, he pounded his fists on the window with even greater urgency.  
  
Lizzie turned again to see Gordo's face at her window, and a feeling of sheer exasperation and frustration engulfed her. Why won't he leave me alone????  
  
Lizzie kept driving, but she did so very slowly, almost as if to let Gordo keep up with her and continue pleading with her. She closed her eyes, then put the brakes to her car. She was going to give Gordo one more chance to convince her not to go.  
  
"Lizzie, oh my god Lizzie, please don't go! You have to listen to me! Lizzie, I don't know what I would do if I lost you! I can't live without you, I just can't!" Gordo's emotions were completely free and loose, and he was now talking from his heart, and not his mind. "I'm so sorry, Lizzie, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean anything I said, you've got to believe me! I want you and need you in my life Lizzie, I can't imagine my life without you. So you can't *go*, Lizzie, you just can't!!!" screamed Gordo.  
  
"Because I love you Lizzie McGuire, I'm in love with you!!!"  
  
As Gordo said those words he had been longing to say for as long he could remember, the night was suddenly bombarded by the loudest thunder of the night. It felt like the night sky was about to rip in half, and the thunder had the ground shaking as if it were about to explode into a million thousand pieces.  
  
Because of the thunder, Lizzie couldn't hear what Gordo was saying to her. But, even though she couldn't hear his words, what she could see was the passionate emotion in Gordo's face . . . there was such an intense urgency in his eyes, a deep sense of concern for her, a deep sense of . . .*love* for her, for Lizzie McGuire. And she knew he was crying, even though the rain on his face was making it difficult for her to tell. It was an odd feeling seeing her best friend Gordo crying. She couldn't remember the last time that had happened.  
  
This night has been so strange, thought Lizzie, as she put her car into drive and started to drive away into the night . . . . 


	10. Chapter Nine

As Lizzie's car began moving deeper into the grey blackness of night, Gordo yelled to himself, "No! I'm not going to let you die tonight, Lizzie!" And even though it seemed hopeless, he began to run in an attempt to catch up with Lizzie's car. The driving rain was forcing Lizzie to drive slowly and cautiously, and Gordo thought that if he sprinted as hard as he could, he could reach her car when she would have to stop at the stop sign at the first intersection. If he caught up with her, he was going to stand in front of the car and force Lizzie to run over him if she wanted to keep on driving.  
  
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The windshield wipers on Lizzie's car were working furiously to keep the windshield clear of rain, but Lizzie was still having some trouble seeing the road ahead of her. She didn't care, though, because she loved nothing more than driving during the night while it was raining. She found it an incredibly peaceful, soothing experience.  
  
And on this night more than any other night in her life, she was desperate to go on a drive and to use that time to sort through her frazzled and confused emotions. She was both terribly upset with Gordo, and yet deeply moved by the things he had said to her just a few moments ago and by the intense look of love and caring she had seen on his rain strewn face.  
  
As she made the decision to keep driving, she was torn, as one part of her wanted to stop the car, get out and give Gordo a big embrace, to let him know everything was okay between them and that she really cared for him as well. But, another part of her was telling her, compelling her, pushing her, to keep going, to keep driving away. That part of her was still extremely hurt and angry about the fight that they had in her living room, and that part of her couldn't forgive Gordo for the things he said, at least not at the moment. That part of her was keeping her feet firmly planted on the car's gas pedal, that part of her was telling her that she simply *had* to go for a drive, because it was something that she was meant to do on this unusual night . . . .  
  
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As he kept running, Gordo could just see Lizzie's car and red blinkers in the distance. Although he couldn't tell for sure, he thought he was gaining ground on Lizzie's car. Perhaps it was a hallucination conjured up by wishful thinking, but Gordo had no time to think about what was really happening, he just kept running.  
  
But as he was almost 50 yards beyond the McGuire's home, he suddenly felt his feet giving away underneath him. He had been running so fast that the upper portion of his body had gotten just too far ahead of his weary legs and the momentum of his weight was carrying him over and propelling him towards the hard concrete sidewalk.  
  
Oh crap . . .  
  
Gordo grimaced and braced himself for the impact that was about to come. He felt his right shoulder hit the sidewalk first, then he felt the right side of his head bounce off the pavement next. His body then rolled around several times before he found himself face down on the ground, dazed, not physically hurt, but emotionally wounded . . . .he was about to fail once again.  
  
Lizzie, please stop, please stop . . . .  
  
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As Lizzie's car was about to reach the first intersection on her street, she gazed back in her rear view mirror, to see if Gordo was still out there. She couldn't tell for sure, but it looked like there was someone lying on the sidewalk, right under one of the street lamps. Was it Gordo?  
  
Lizzie stopped at the stop sign, then, began to wonder if Gordo was hurt somehow, lying on the sidewalk. Maybe I should go back . . . She checked her rear view mirror again, and she was right, she did see someone back there. It is Gordo, whispered Lizzie. Was he chasing after me? Lizzie frowned with curious concern. What is going on with him? Why is he trying so hard to stop me from going on a drive? He knows I'm gonna come back in a little bit.  
  
Ohhhh, I should go back to check if he's okay. Yeah, he's been a real jerk, but I don't want to see him hurt, he's still my . . .friend.  
  
Lizzie pondered about the last word in her previous thought. She had just referred to Gordo as just her *friend*, instead of as her *best friend*. She couldn't remember the last time that she didn't think of Gordo as anyone else but the closest, most cherished person she knew in her life. But, she was realizing that the events of the night may have created a rift between her and Gordo, a rift that she wasn't sure could ever really heal. He had said things to her that she could never have imagined him saying to her before. And no, she wasn't sure that she could ever really *trust* him again.  
  
She paused for a second, as she struggled with her conflicting desires. From her rear view mirror, she saw Gordo pick himself up. Okay, he's fine, Lizzie. You don't have to worry about him, he's a big boy. So go. . . .  
  
I'm just going for a drive, Lizzie repeated to herself, I'll be back in a little bit. With that thought, Lizzie took her foot of the brakes, and was about to turn right onto the crossing street.  
  
As her car starting to veer right, she wondered again, if Gordo knows I'm just going for a drive, then why is he acting like this is the last time he's ever going to see me again?  
  
With that thought Lizzie quickly slammed on her brakes, as her mind and heart was suddenly overflowing with images. In her mind, she could vividly see once again the somber, pained look on Gordo's face as she was about to drive away. It *was* a look of someone who was about to lose someone he loved forever.  
  
Me, whispered Lizzie, Gordo's afraid of losing *me* . . .  
  
Then Lizzie began seeing images she hadn't ever seen before. She saw images of a funeral, and she saw Gordo there. Her family was there, too, and Miranda, and many other people she knew in her life.  
  
This is like a dream, whispered Lizzie.  
  
She saw Gordo watching intently as a casket was lowered into a grave. His face was drained of all life, pale, ghostly. He held his hands together in front him, and she could see him muttering to himself in the bright sunlight. It was a beautiful summer day, and Lizzie thought how sad it was for there to be such a sorrowful event in such brilliant sunlight. She couldn't quite make out what Gordo was saying, but she could hear him saying her name over and over again.  
  
What's he saying? What's he saying? wondered Lizzie.  
  
"I'm going to miss you so much, Lizzie, I'm going to miss you so much. Goodbye, Lizzie," said David in a trembling voice. Lizzie then watched as Gordo buried his face in his hands and began to weep uncontrollably.  
  
He's going to miss me? Why? Why would he . . . . Lizzie's thoughts trailed off into the darkness, as she was suddenly with an epiphany. Everything seemed crystal clear to her in her heart, even if her rational mind didn't have a clue as to what was transpiring. She knew now what she had to do, what she wanted to do . . . .  
  
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Gordo picked himself up from the ground, trying to grab a hold of his senses. He was still extremely woozy and dizzy, and even though his mind was telling him to go after Lizzie' car, his body, his legs, just could not comply. Helpless, he watched Lizzie's car drive further and further away from him, further away from his reach.  
  
It's too late. . . .  
  
But, as he saw Lizzie's car reached the intersection, he saw it stop, then begin to turn right. Then, he saw the car stop once again. Gordo's eyes lit up with hope. Maybe she's gonna turn around, maybe she's coming back . . . . Gordo wasn't waiting, though, as he geared himself up to run after the car again. But, just as he started his spring, he then saw the car continue its turn to the right, and just like that, the car was gone from his sight. Lizize was gone . . . .  
  
Gordo stood there, on the sidewalk, in the pouring rain, dumbfounded. Oh, no . . . Lizzie's gone, Lizzie's gone, she's gone and it's all my fault . . .  
  
As Gordo felt like his exhausted body was about to crumple onto the sidewalk, he saw something in the distance. A light. Two lights. Car headlights, thought Gordo. The lights were slowly getting brighter and brighter as the car kept inching closer to where Gordo was standing.  
  
Gordo waited with baited breath as the car came nearer. The car headlights were staring straight into Gordo's eyes, making it hard to see anything except a bright blinding flashing. He squinted his eyes, hoping to be able to see who was in the car. The car was now only a few dozen yards away from him. He could finally see that the car was of a familiar make and model.  
  
The car was now 10 yards from him. Gordo's eyes lit up as he was now able to recognize the driver inside the car . . . it was his best friend, Elizabeth Brooke McGuire. . . .  
  
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Author's Note: Thanks to you all for the heartfelt reviews! It truly made my day reading your thoughts about my last chapter. Wow. Thanks again.  
  
Hope you enjoyed this latest chapter. Please read and review and let me know what you think. And, I'll just end by saying that there's a lot more story left, it's not quite over yet!  
  
hm 


	11. Chapter Ten

Author's Note: Thank you all for your amazing reviews! I'm glad you all want this story to continue. Just a note, when I wrote the last couple of chapters, the song and music video that kept going through my head was Coldplay's beautifully melancholic song, "The Scientist." The feel and emotion of that song has definitely been an inspiration as I've been writing this story.  
  
Anyway, here's chapter 10. Please read and review! hm  
  
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Gordo waited with baited breath as the car came nearer. The car headlights were staring straight into his eyes, making it hard to see anything except a bright blinding flashing. He squinted his eyes, hoping to be able to see who was in the car. The car was now only a few dozen yards away from him. He could finally see that the car was of a familiar make and model.  
  
The car was now 10 yards from him. His eyes lit up as he was now able to recognize the driver inside the car . . . it was his best friend, Elizabeth Brooke McGuire. . . .  
  
He watched as Lizzie's car crept closer to him. She was driving only five or ten miles per hour, and his heart began beating rapidly as he expected Lizzie to stop where he was standing.  
  
He was wrong.  
  
Lizzie kept on driving past him without acknowledging Gordo's presence. It was as if he wasn't there at all.  
  
"Lizzie! Wait!" yelled Gordo, as he turned to watch the car head back towards the McGuire house. I hope she's just driving back home, muttered Gordo. He wiped away the drenching rain away from his face with both of his hands, gulped down some air, then began chasing Lizzie's car down the other end of the street.  
  
As Gordo trekked closer to Lizzie's car, he gazed upward at the violent night sky, noticing that the clouds were still quite visibly upset, as it continued to throw sheets and sheets of dark, angry rain down to the ground. His clothes were now completely soaked through with water, his once light sky blue shirt turned a deep somber blue. As the adrenaline was beginning to drain out of his body, he could start to feel the damp chill of the wet fabric on his back and on his chest, and as he was running, he could feel his feet squishing and swimming around in his soggy socks.  
  
As he was twenty yards from the McGuire's house, Gordo could see Lizzie's car stop, on the street, right in front of her house. Her head lights and brake lights were still on, the engine was still running, and Lizzie made no motion to stop the car and get out. The car just sat there, in idle, as if Lizzie was waiting, waiting for him. . . .  
  
Oh please Lizzie just don't move, don't go anywhere just stay there, please!  
  
Even though it felt like an eternity, he finally reached Lizzie's car. Okay, if I have to, I'm going to stand in front of the car to make sure Lizzie doesn't drive off unless it's over my dead body.  
  
Gordo stood right next to Lizzie's driver side window, put his face up against the window and peered in. He saw Lizzie, sitting in her car, her hair dripping little droplets of water all over her car seat, staring blankly out the front of the car. She looks like a ghost, gasped Gordo. Ohmigod I hope she's okay, I hope she's okay.  
  
Gordo knocked on the car window and in a loud but gentle voice said, "Lizzie! Lizzie, can you hear me, are you okay?"  
  
Lizzie didn't move a single inch of her body. Gordo's pulse raced with deep concern for his best friend.  
  
"Lizzie! Can you hear me? Say something! Tell me you're okay! Please get out of the car and let's go back inside the house!"  
  
Still no response.  
  
"Lizzie!!!" screamed Gordo, as he began pounding furiously on the window. He tried to shake the car door open but it remained firmly locked. "Wake up, Lizzie! Please don't scare me like this, just let me know you're okay! Please don't do this to me!" Desperation and frustration penetrated each of his words, as he wasn't sure if Lizzie couldn't get out of the car, or whether she didn't want to get out of the car.  
  
Lizzie finally responded. She closed her eyes, then slowly turned her head to face Gordo.  
  
Gordo was taken aback by the expression on Lizzie's face. It was an odd expression, something he had never seen on Lizzie's face before. She looked bone weary, as if she was 150 years old and ready for eternal slumber. She had strands of wet, darkened blonde hair dangling in front of her face and her puffy, reddish-stained eyes. She was also wearing a quizzical, forlorn smile on her face, a smile radiating feelings of deep sadness, confusion, love, hate, and . . .betrayal.  
  
Gordo's desperation and frustration subsided, as the look on Lizzie's face started calming him down. He stopped pounding on the window as pangs of sadness and regret started attacking him. Oh god, you look so beautiful, whispered Gordo. The raw, melancholy emotions on Lizzie's face only made the purity of her natural beauty shine through, and he began welling up with tears as he wanted to do nothing else right now than to hold onto Lizzie with all of his strength and to kiss her and to tell her that everything is going to be okay. . . .  
  
Although Lizzie couldn't tell for sure, it looked like to her that Gordo was . . . crying. That's odd, mused Lizzie, I've never seen Gordo cry before. As she continued to gaze curiously at her friend, she could feel his emotions penetrating the window and taking up residence in her heart. She felt a slight jolt of electricity course and flow through her entire body, and she was awoken from her semi-trance state. Oh Gordo . . . . her heart wanted to reach out to him and comfort him, but then she began to remember everything that had transpired on this night. Her head started to swirl as a flood of emotions overwhelmed her entire being.  
  
Her emotions finally broke Lizzie's will. She buried her face deep in her hands and started sobbing uncontrollably. Her body began to convulse and shake, and then it began to rhythmically rock back and forth, back and forth.  
  
Gordo could only watch, stunned, helpless. He wanted to console her, yet he knew he was the last person she wanted to turn to right now for comfort, since he had been the one to cause her the pain and hurt that was besieging Lizzie as this moment. So, he just stood there, outside of her car, as the rain kept pelting his body, and waited patiently as he watched his friend grieve.  
  
After a few minutes, Gordo could tell that Lizzie was starting to calm down, as her rocking was slowing down and her body was shaking less and less. She took her face out of her hands and turned to look at him once more. Her teary eyes met his anxious, worried eyes. She rolled her eyes as if in exasperation and defeat, then brought her forehead to a rest on the steering wheel. With her head firmly planted on the steering wheel, she slowly took her left arm and turned off the car headlights. Then, slowly with her right arm, she put up the emergency brakes and turned off the car's ignition.  
  
The car's rumbling came to an abrupt stop, and the only noise that Lizzie and Gordo could hear now was the sound of the night rain still steadily and persistently beating down on car and on Gordo. But, to Gordo and Lizzie, they might as well have been standing in a vaccum, because for them, it felt like the night was suddenly overcome with an eerie silence.  
  
Gordo waited with anxious anticipation as Lizzie unlocked her car door and slowly flung it open. She paused for a second, then cautiously carried her self out of the car and into the open night.  
  
She felt so very unsure of herself as she stood there, only a foot away from Gordo. She didn't know how to be around him right now, as she felt completely lost within herself. It was as if she was standing right next to a complete stranger, raw, naked, her emotions completely exposed. She had no idea what to do, whether to say something, whether to just keep standing there and let the rain wash away her sorrow, whether to just go on inside the house, or whether to get back in her car and go for that drive once again. She just didn't know what to do. . . .  
  
Awash in uncertainty and ambiguity, Lizzie closed the car door, and just stood there, waiting, hoping, that she would soon be able to figure out what to do next.  
  
Gordo met Lizzie's uncertainty with his own feelings of not knowing what to do next. He couldn't help but fix his gaze on Lizzie's face, and he couldn't help but to keep muttering in his head how absolutely beautiful she is, how absolutely beautiful she is, and that she was still *alive!* She's not dead, she's not dead, Lizzie's alive, Lizzie's alive!!  
  
With the confidence of a baby making its first upright steps, he inched closer to Lizzie. He did so very slowly, hoping not to scare her away and back into her car.  
  
Lizzie didn't move away. But nor did she give Gordo any signal that she wanted him to come closer.  
  
Gordo thought momentarily about stopping himself and taking a step back, but it was too late, he was already close enough to Lizzie to feel her breath on his face. Then instinct and desire took over and Gordo whispered, "Lizzie, I'm so sorry," as he wrapped his around his arms tightly around Lizzie and let his emotions flow from deep inside of his being and straight into her heart. Try as hard as he could, he couldn't stop himself from sobbing as he held on tightly to Lizzie. As he held her and his face brushed against Lizzie's soft, wet cheeks, he kept whispering "I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry" into Lizzie's ear.  
  
Lizzie initially was taken aback by Gordo's embrace. Her first thought was to shake him off of her, to tell him to get away from her. Her body didn't return his embrace, and she just stood there, dumbfounded, as he continued to hold her and weep. But, the raw power of his emotions started breaking through her anger and resentment, and slowly she began to open itself up. Tears started to flow down her cheeks as her heart finally relented to its desires and she put her arms around him and held onto him as tightly as she could. "Oh Gordo. . . ." she gently whispered into his ears. "It'll be alright, it'll be alright."  
  
As Lizzie and Gordo continued to hold on to each other as if their lives depended on it, the rain finally began to loosen up, and it started coming down at a much slower, leisurely pace.  
  
As Gordo's sobbing started to diminish, Lizzie took her face off of his shoulders, and as he kept holding onto her, she took her hands, curled them into fists, and then began softly pounding them on his chest. With a look of deep hurt and muted anger, she looked into his eyes and said, "how could you say those things to me? How could you? Ohmigod, yo-you hurt me so much tonight, Gordo!" She buried her face into Gordo's chest and began sobbing.  
  
Gordo held onto her even more tightly, began to gently rock her and just kept whispering to her how sorry he was, how sorry he was, how sorry he was . . . .  
  
As Lizzie's crying began to subside, Gordo said, "c'mon Lizzie, let's go back inside, okay?"  
  
Lizzie peered up at Gordo and nodded in agreement. Gordo held onto Lizzie with his right arm as the two slowly and gingerly made there way back into the McGuire's residence.  
  
As they reached the front door, Gordo released his grip on Lizzie and let her in first. As he was about to take his step inside, he first glanced at his wristwatch. It read 9:25 p.m. David had told him that Lizzie's car had crashed around 10:00 p.m. Even though he wasn't going to be absolutely certain of anything until it was way past 10:00 p.m., he knew deep down that he had done it, that he had prevented Lizzie's death on this night. He gazed up into the sky and smiled a sigh of relief. I did it. Lizzie's going to live, oh my god, Lizzie's going to live! His heavy heart began to soar with delight and relief. We did it David, we did it . . . .  
  
"Gordo, are you coming in?" asked Lizzie, as she watched him standing in front of the doorway, gazing up intently at the night.  
  
"Yeah, Lizzie, I'm coming." As Gordo crossed the doorway, he suddenly heard a voice telling him, "It's not over yet, Gordo, it's not over yet." And as the house greeted Gordo with its warmth and bright, cozy lights, a feeling of dread suddenly crept inside of his heart and mind. Oh, no, whispered Gordo, as he closed the door behind him, it isn't over yet, not just yet. . . . 


	12. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Here's Chapter 11! I actually wanted to include this part as chapter 10, but I just ran out of steam yesterday. This chapter is from David's POV. Please read and review! Thanks.  
  
hm  
  
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David sat deathly still on his couch, deeply mesmerized by the new memories flickering in his mind. As he saw Gordo uproot himself from the living room and chase Lizzie out the door, he leaped off of his couch and yelled, "come on Gordo, you go out there and bring her back! That's it, man! That's it!"  
  
He no longer could sit still and he began pacing around his living room at a furious clip.  
  
"Oww!!"  
  
David had bumped his shins violently against the coffee table.  
  
"Dammit! Serves you right for walking around in complete darkness," he muttered as he gingerly rubbed his shins. He cautiously walked to the table lamp sitting next to the couch, flicked on the lights, and winced from the sudden burst of brightness flooding his living room. Okay, that's better . . . . and he continued to nervously maneuver himself around his house.  
  
David stopped dead in his tracks and felt his jaws drop, however, when he saw Lizzie reach her car, climb inside, turn on the ignition, and drive her car onto the street. Oh, no . . . . come on Gordo, get up off the ground, run after her, man!  
  
David walked back to his couch and set himself down on it once again. I'm not sure I can take this, he murmured to himself, I can't deal with this, not again . . .  
  
As a few minutes passed by, he was still on the couch, and now he was watching Lizzie's car approach the stop light and about to turn right and into the night. Oh my god, we've failed, we screwed up. . . . David clutched at his hair with both of his hands and screamed in utter frustration.  
  
As he sat there and watched his life flash before his eyes, he kept thinking about what could've been, what might have been, if Lizzie hadn't died on that night. And he began remembering the day he attended Lizzie's service and funeral, the day he considered to be the second worst day of his life.  
  
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He remembered walking around that day as if he were half-dead, alive by medical standards, but spiritually dead and hollow inside. He remembered how sunny and bright that day was, a day that was in sharp contrast to the dark and somber emotions he was feeling inside.  
  
He remembered finally breaking down on that day and crying for his best friend. For two days after hearing about Lizzie's death, it felt as if his emotions had been frozen shut, and he felt completely detached from himself and the world. For two days, he couldn't believe Lizzie was truly gone, and that he had played a role in her death. He refused to believe it.  
  
But, on the day of Lizzie's funeral, he slowly began to realize the bitter truth. It began at the service, when during the eulogy, one by one friends and family came up and spoke about their relationship with Lizzie, about how much they loved her, about how much they would miss her now that she was gone. And with each person who spoke, it began to dawn on David, incrementally, that she truly was gone.  
  
He remembered vividly when it came to his turn to say something about Lizzie. Miranda had just spoken, or, more accurately, she had tried to speak, but after she had said, "I-I love you Lizzie, I am sooo going to miss you, I mean, who else is gonna tell me when I'm having a bad hair day or-or-or that I'm the best-est friend any girl could ever-ever-ha--. . ."  
  
Miranda's voice trailed off and she couldn't finish her sentence as her voice was swallowed up by her sobbing, and she had to be helped back to her seat by her mother.  
  
David was next, and he slowly got up from his seat and solemnly walked up to the podium, glanced out at all of the people there to grieve Lizzie's death and to celebrate her life, took out a piece of paper with his prepared speech, and started to speak in a controlled, composed, formal voice. "Lizzie McGuire will be sorely missed by all of us. She was a great friend, a great sister, a great daughter, a great person. She . . . ." He abruptly stopped speaking, as out of the corner of his eye, he saw Miranda continue to heave and sob in her mother's arms.  
  
"She . . .she . . ." He looked down at his speech, and he knew he just couldn't continue or else he would lose control of himself just like Miranda.  
  
He closed his eyes, fought the tears that were trying to seep out through his eyes, then said the one thing that he truly wanted to say. "Lizzie, I've still got your back. Okay? Always. Forever."  
  
And I'll always love you, he whispered to himself. He then pulled himself off the podium and slumped back into his seat.  
  
The next thing David remembered was standing at Lizzie's grave site, watching her casket being lowered. At that moment, he couldn't hold himself back any longer and he began to weep like he had never done before. It was the most awful feeling in the world, as he felt like he would never be able to stop crying and that the deep dark hole in his heart would never go away. Lizzie's father saw him crying, walked up to him, put his arm around Gordo's shoulder, and gently whispered, "It's okay, Gordo, let it out, let it all out. It's okay, it's okay." And he continued to cry, as he finally allowed his heart to understand and accept that Lizzie was truly gone from his life.  
  
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As David reminisced about the day of Lizzie's funeral, he watched as Lizzie's car turn right and drive off into the night. But, then, his eyes suddenly opened up with hope. Lights, he saw car lights. Is that Lizzie's car? Is it? Is Lizzie coming back? He watched his younger self watching with great anticipation to see who was in the car coming towards him.  
  
"Oh my god, it's Lizzie!! She's coming back, thank god she's coming back!" David hopped around with sheer unadulterated joy and excitement. He stood up and watched in his mind as Lizzie sat in her car and Gordo kept urging her to come out. "Come on, Lizzie, just turn off the engine and come out of the car, please, please," pleaded David.  
  
After a few moments had passed, he yelled out, "YES!! Yes!! Oh my god, yes!! She's not going to drive away, she's not!! She's staying with me!! We did it, dammit, we did it! Lizzie's going to live!" He started jumping up and down as a huge surge of ecstatic energy surged through his entire body as he watched Gordo and Lizzie walk together back into the house.  
  
As soon as Lizzie entered the house, David *knew* that they had just changed history. And at exactly that moment, a brilliant flash of light covered his entire house and now new memories were filling his head at the speed of light. Oh, my, god, it's like I'm seeing my entire life flash before my eyes. . . .  
  
He began to see several *years* of new memories seep into his consciousness, one memory at a time. This is unbelievable, thought David, this is absolutely unbelievable.  
  
He saw new memories of him and Lizzie through their junior and senior years of high school. He saw new memories of their senior prom; he went with Miranda and Lizzie went with Jimmy; he saw Lizzie hugging him when he received his acceptance letter to Harvard; he saw himself saying goodbye to Lizzie and Jimmy at the airport as they were about fly off to the University of Washington, where Jimmy was going to play quarterback for the college football team.  
  
Years of new memories were filling his mind within a matter of seconds. It was as if time was standing still at this moment and allowing David to catch up with himself and his "new" past.  
  
As he initially began seeing his new memories, he had a huge grin on his face, as he loved every new moment with Lizzie. But, as his memories continued to fill up, his smile kept getting smaller and smaller as his memories of Lizzie became increasingly more bittersweet with each passing year.  
  
When he began seeing memories of him and Lizzie when they were 23 years old, David watched, and then his smile completely disappeared and was replaced with a weary, forlorn grimace.  
  
Oh my god, no, no, no, it can't be, this can't be . . . .  
  
He buried his face in his hands and slowly began accepting his new truth.  
  
Lizzie and Jimmy continued to date after high school, and they eventually married after they had graduated from college. Jimmy was a star quarterback for his college team, and was drafted by a professional team. However, on the first day of practice, Jimmy blew out his knee, abruptly ending what portended to be a very promising career.  
  
That injury devastated Jimmy. With his football career over, he found himself unemployed and feeling like he no longer had a life or a future. He quickly fell into a severe depression, and instead of seeking treatment, he began to numb his feelings by taking drugs and drinking alcohol. His marriage turned for the worse as well, as he began spending all of his time drinking with his buddies and cheating on Lizzie with other women.  
  
One night, after spending a night in jail after being charged with driving while intoxicated, he binged on drugs and alcohol at a friend's house. He came home to find Lizzie packing her clothes. She told him that she wanted a divorce and that she was leaving him and staying with Miranda. In a drug and alcohol induced suicidal frenzy, a hysterical Jimmy went into his room, grabbed his handgun, and shot and killed Lizzie before turning the gun on himself.  
  
Seven years after he had saved her from one premature funeral, he found himself at Lizzie's funeral once again, grieving the all too brief life of his friend, Lizzie McGuire, who passed away, again, on July 31st, 2010, at the age of 23.  
  
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additional author's note: I realized after reading the reviews of this chapter that it may seem like this story is over. I just want to let you know that, no, this isn't it, there are several more chapters to come.  
  
Thanks for the reviews, and if you have any questions about the story and where it's going, feel free to email me.  
  
hm 


	13. Chapter Twelve

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter! It's from David's POV. Please read and review!! Thanks. hm  
  
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David sat up straight, combed his hair back with his hands, then leaned over, buried his face in his hands, and started sobbing. He kept replaying his new memory of Lizzie's second funeral; he kept seeing images of him standing there before Lizzie's grave, again, and thinking how cruel it was that he had to grieve Lizzie's death not once but twice in one lifetime.  
  
Am I cursed? Wondered David. Am I going to have to live the rest of my life with memories of both of Lizzie's deaths? Oh my god, did I save Lizzie's life only so that she could die once again?  
  
He angrily leaped off of the couch and yelled at the top of his lungs, "NO!! I can't take this anymore!!! Whoever you are that's putting me through this nightmare, I can't take this anymore! Do you hear me? I can't! I won't! Whoever you are, just leave me alone!!"  
  
David crumpled to the floor and furiously pounded on the hardwood tiles with his fists. "I can't take this anymore, I can't take this anymore, I can't take this anymore, I *can't* *take* *this* *anymore*!!!"  
  
He felt a throbbing heaviness in his chest, and with his right hand he clutched at his heart. Oh god, it feels like I'm dying, it feels like I'm dying from the inside out. My heart feels so heavy, it feels so black inside . . . with that thought, he began sobbing and heaving uncontrollably. He was feeling the same pain he felt during both of Lizzie's funerals, except it was worse because he was remembering and grieving and crying now for the two times that Lizzie had died, for the two times that Lizzie vanished from his life.  
  
Lying there, on the floor, he was consumed with an overwhelming, unquenchable longing to be with the girl, with the woman, he loved and still loved with all of his heart and with all of his mind and with all of his soul.  
  
While still on the floor, he heard another crack of thunder bursting outside. He then turned his body over and was now lying on his back, his arms and legs outstretched, his body making an "X" on the floor.  
  
And he just laid there, completely still, staring blankly at the ceiling fan light, weary, beaten, demoralized. Beads of sweat and tears streamed down from his brow and face, as he looked like a marathon runner who had collapsed after having ran for hours in grueling, blistering summer heat.  
  
Another burst of thunder rumbled outside. David vigorously rubbed his forehead with both of his hands, trying to massage the unwanted memories out of his mind, but it wasn't working. The memories remained etched in his consciousness, they just would not go away.  
  
He suddenly was hit with a wave of claustrophobia and he started choking for air. I need to get some air, I need to go outside, muttered David. He slowly picked himself up off the floor, then dragged himself to the back door leading out to the back porch. He gingerly twisted the doorknob and swung the door open.  
  
A gush of bitterly cold air greeted David as dusts of rain sprinkled all over him. He closed his eyes and breathed in the cool crisp air, then stepped outside into the dark night and into the hard rain.  
  
He stood a few feet from his door and tilted back his head to let the rain fall squarely on his face, hoping that the rain would wash away his unwanted memories.  
  
Instead, standing in the rain, he began thinking about that rainy night twelve years ago, that night when he thought he had saved Lizzie's life. His face contorted itself into a forlorn grimace, as thoughts of having to live the rest of his life knowing that Lizzie had died twice was sapping his energy and draining him of his will to live.  
  
And as he stood there, motionless, getting pummeled by the storm, the rain picked up its intensity and starting hitting David harder and harder.  
  
David opened his eyes to see a brilliant flash of light illuminate the entire night sky. The flash lightning lingered for several seconds, blinding his eyes with its unbearable brightness.  
  
As the lightning started to subside, he then heard a voice forcefully whisper to him, "It's not over yet, David."  
  
He whipped around to see if someone was behind him. "Who said that?"  
  
No one was there.  
  
He then scanned the entire back porch, and still he saw nothing. "You're just imagining things, get a grip on yourself."  
  
BOOOOOMMM!!  
  
"What tha--?" The sudden rattle and boom startled David as he felt his body shaking from the latest crack of thunder. As the thunder slowly disappeared into the dark clouds, he then heard the voice again. "It's not over yet, David. You have a second chance."  
  
David quickly scanned the entire back porch once again. Still, not another soul to be found. Am I going crazy? What is going on? And second chance? What's that about? A second chance at what?  
  
As he pondered the meaning of what he had just heard, the rain kept coming down harder and harder. "Ouch!" David rubbed his cheeks as it felt his face was being poked by thousands of sharp little needles. I think it's time to head inside, he muttered.  
  
As he took two steps towards the door, he came to an abrupt halt. A second chance? It's not over yet? His eyes lit up as the meaning of those words slowly started to sink in and to make sense to him. He quickly began thinking about that night again, about everything that happened after he had stopped Lizzie from driving away.  
  
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That night twelve years ago, both Lizzie and Gordo went inside and dried off. Lizzie's cold took a turn for the worse after having been out in the rain, and so he remembered offering to stay the night with her, to make sure she was okay. And while Lizzie took a long hot bath, he remembered taking Lizzie's car and driving back to his parent's house for a change of clothes and to pick up some flu/cold medicine for Lizzie.  
  
While there, he tried reaching David on the ham radio, to tell him that he had prevented Lizzie's death, but for some reason, he wasn't able to make contact him. After a few minutes of trying, Gordo gave up, packed his bag, and headed back to Lizzie's house. And after that night, although he kept trying, Gordo was never able to contact and talk to David again.  
  
That night, Gordo stayed up with Lizzie through the early morning, keeping her company and taking care of her. Although she was very sick, she couldn't sleep, and she kept dozing in and out of sleep the entire night. However, while the two didn't fight, they felt awkward with each other that night, and they felt a distance between them that had never been there before.  
  
The following morning, after Gordo had made some light breakfast for Lizzie, David remembered the two sitting on the couch and having a bittersweet conversation. He could remember that conversation as if it happened a few minutes ago. He remembered it in great detail because it was the conversation that to him clearly signaled the end of his close friendship with Lizzie. After that moment, the two remained friends, but they spent less and less time together with each passing day, never regaining the sense of trust and intimacy that they had shared before.  
  
The conversation began as Lizzie sat on the couch and took tiny bites of her toast. Gordo, sitting next to her, watched his friend intently and then said, "Uh, Lizzie, you know, I should be going home."  
  
Lizzie finished her last bite of toast, then responded, "Oh, Gordo, please, please, please don't go. I still feel awful, and I don't want to be here by myself, all alone!"  
  
With all of his heart he wanted to reach out and grab hold of her and tell her that he wasn't going anywhere and that he wanted nothing more than to stay there with her. But, his mind trumped his heart's desires, and he responded matter of factly, "Uh yeah, I know, but, um, I have lots of things I've got to do today, you know, and I told my parents I'll be back in the morning. They said they have plenty of chores for me to do around the house, stuff I've been neglecting since I've been spending so much time on my ham radio."  
  
Lizzie responded with a pained look on her face. She could feel the emotional distance in Gordo's words, something she had felt the entire night. Yes, both of them were still stinging from their fight, but she thought, they were still friends, why's he acting this way?  
  
"Oh, Gordo, please, I'll help you do your chores later. I'm sure you're parents won't mind if you stay with me, just tell them I'm deathly ill and that I'll surely die if you're not here with me!" Lizzie laughed as she playfully put the back of her hand to her forehead, rolled her eyes, and then "fainted" onto the couch.  
  
Try as he might, Gordo couldn't help but let out a half-smile. But, the smile quickly disappeared, as he kept thinking about what happened the night before, about the terrible things he said to Lizzie, about the fact that he had almost *killed* her. And as such thoughts swirling in his head, he couldn't be himself, he couldn't allow it, because he kept thinking, what if I say something awful again? I'm still jealous of that Jimmy guy, and I can't trust myself, not right now. This is for Lizzie's sake, she needs to not be with me right now.  
  
"Oh, come on Lizzie, you'll be fine, honestly, I really don't think you'll die if I'm not here."  
  
"Gordo! You're not just going to leave me here alone, are you?" She snapped at Gordo, starting to feel angry that her friend would abandon her like this.  
  
He looked at her concerned face, bit his tongue, then began to say something to her that he really did not want to say. "No, you're right, you shouldn't be alone today. But, I really do have to get home, so, um, why don't you call your, um, boyfriend, you know, Jimmy, and ask him to come over." It was extremely difficult for Gordo to call Jimmy Lizzie's "boyfriend," and he cringed inside when he said that word. And he felt like he was stabbing himself in the back by encouraging her to call him. But, he kept muttering to himself, this for Lizzie, this for Lizzie, this is who she needs right now, not you, not the person who almost got her killed.  
  
After hearing his suggestion, Lizzie responded with silence. She felt like he had just thrown a stone at her face; she didn't know why, but it was as if Gordo was rejecting her, it was as if he was telling her that he no longer wanted to be her friend. It seemed irrational, but she couldn't help feeling this way, especially considering all the hurtful things that he had said to her the night before. Yes, he said those things in the heat of the moment, but, isn't that when you let your true feelings out?  
  
Is that how he *really* thinks about me?  
  
After a few more deathly awkward seconds, Lizzie responded, "Okay, Gordo. That's a great idea. And it works for both of us, since you get to go home and get out of here. That's what you want, isn't it?"  
  
"Lizzie, no that's not it at all, I do want to be here, you know, because you're really sick, but I really have things to do, and I'm sure you'd rather be spending time with Jimmy than with me, right?"  
  
"Yeah, that's right," whispered Lizzie. A lone tear streamed down her cheeks. She closed her eyes then softly asked Gordo, "Hey, um, could you hand me the phone? I want to give Jimmy a call."  
  
What the hell are you doing Gordo!?? Stop it, don't give her the phone, tell her you didn't mean anything you just said and that you would give anything to stay with her right now! However, he kept refusing to listen to his heart, and he got up, picked up the phone and handed it to Lizzie.  
  
"Thank you, David." She took the phone and punched in Jimmy's number.  
  
Gordo sat himself back on the couch and wondered to himself, when was the last time she called me David?  
  
"Oh, hey, Jimmy? It's me, Lizzie!" Gordo turned his head towards Lizzie, only to see her face brighten up into a huge smile upon hearing Jimmy on the other line. He turned his head the other way, grimaced, nervously rubbed his hands together, and kept thinking to himself, see Gordo, you did the right thing. She wants to be with Jimmy, not you, she deserves to be with someone who wouldn't say those things to her.  
  
As Lizzie happily chattered away on the phone, Gordo got up to leave. Lizzie saw him get up. She said, "Oh hang on Jimmy, Gordo's about to leave." She looked at Gordo and said, "Thanks, this was a great idea! Jimmy's coming over right now, so you're free to go! I'll see ya later, okay?" She then turned away from Gordo and started talking into the phone as if he had already left.  
  
He felt hurt by Lizzie's cold goodbye, but he understood why she was being that way. "Bye, Lizzie. I'll call you later to see how you're doing, alright?"  
  
"Sure, whatever David," said Lizzie, who, without turning to look at him, absentmindedly waved her hand goodbye, almost as if she was shoo-ing him out the door.  
  
He winced, as hearing Lizzie calling him David felt like the worst sort of insult he could ever receive from his best friend. In a painful daze, he turned around, and like a zombie, and trudged out the door. It was still raining outside, but he didn't care in the least bit. As he reached the sidewalk, he turned around, whispered "goodbye, Lizzie," then continued his slow, somber march home.  
  
***********************************************************  
  
As he continued to stand there on his back porch, remembering what happened that morning, David opened his eyes, stared up into the oncoming rain, and screamed into the stormy night, "Oh my god, what in the world were you thinking, man? You practically threw her into Jimmy' arms! It's your fault she dies for the second time!"  
  
But, it's not too late, remember? You still have a second chance! With that thought, David ran back into his house and sprinted into the bathroom for a quick shower.  
  
After he put himself into some dry clothes, he began to pace around the living in deep thought about how he could save Lizzie's life once more.  
  
I'm going to do it, somehow, I'm going to do it. It's not her destiny to die, I know it, I'm going to save her again, I have to save her, for her, and for me . . . . 


	14. Chapter Thirteen

DAVID'S POV - The Year 2015  
  
9:40 p.m.  
  
As he stood there on his back porch, remembering what happened that morning twelve years ago, David opened his eyes, stared up into the oncoming rain, and screamed into the stormy night, "Oh my god, what in the world were you thinking, man? You practically threw her into Jimmy' arms! It's your fault she dies for the second time!"  
  
But, it's not too late, remember? You still have a second chance! With that thought, David ran back into his house and sprinted into the bathroom for a quick shower.  
  
After he put himself into some dry clothes, he began to pace around the living in deep thought about how he could save Lizzie's life once again.  
  
I'm going to do it, somehow, I'm going to do it. It's not her destiny to die, I know it, I'm going to save her again, I have to save her, for her, and for me . . . .  
  
Come on think, man, there's got to be a way, there's got to be a way.  
  
David paced around his living room, wracking his brain for solutions. I need to talk to Gordo again, I need to tell him what happens to Lizzie.  
  
But, why, why didn't he contact me again?  
  
He closed his eyes, trying to remember the details of what happened that night twelve years ago. Let's see, he, me, Gordo, left Lizzie's house and then came home for a change of clothes. I tried to contact me, David, on the ham radio. But, when I tried to reach him, there was no answer, no answer at all.  
  
Why? I'm right here, there should've been no way that I would have missed Gordo if he tried to reach me again. Why didn't I answer? David wondered. Or, more accurately, when he tries to contact me in a little bit, why don't I answer him? What happens?  
  
This doesn't make any sense. Unless, unless, there's something wrong with the ham radio!  
  
David walked over to living room alcove, where the ham radio sat on a mahogany desk. He carefully gave the radio an intensive check-up. Whew, no problem, no problem, it's still working perfectly, there's no problem with it all.  
  
He plopped himself onto his the desk chair, sighed, and thought, okay, if I remember my new memories well, I left Lizzie's house sometime after 10:00 p.m. He looked at his wristwatch. It read 9:48 p.m. He should be radioing me at any time now. Alright, I'll just sit here and wait for him to radio me, there's no way I'm going to miss Gordo's call, there's no way . . . .  
  
***************************************************************  
  
GORDO'S POV--TWELVE YEARS EARLIER  
  
9:30 p.m.  
  
Gordo closed the door behind him and walked into the living room. He looked at Lizzie, who was standing just a few feet away from him.  
  
She was soaking wet, with beads of water dripping down her hair and face. She returned Gordo's glance and said, "Hang on, I'm going to get us some towels, okay?"  
  
She spoke with very little emotion on her voice.  
  
"Okay, I'll be right here," he replied.  
  
He watched Lizzie disappear around the corner and then sighed a breath of relief. Even though he didn't realize it, he had been holding his breath. He was feeling awkward and self-conscious, unsure of what to say to her, unsure of how to be around her. What he wanted more than anything else was a clear sign from her that everything between them was okay, that they were still best friends, that what had just transpired would soon be forgotten.  
  
Lizzie reappeared with two large towels in her hands. Without making eye contact, she said, "here you go," handed Gordo the red towel, took a few steps back, then started drying herself off.  
  
"Thanks, Lizzie, uh, you know how I hate being all wet!" He laughed and wiped the rain off his face. C'mon Lizzie, I'm making a bad joke here, say something, anything . . . .  
  
She looked up at him, gave him a blank expression, then said, "Yeah, that's great," in a mindless, hollow voice, acting as if he had just rudely interrupted her. "Are you done with the towel?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, here you go."  
  
"Thanks." She took the towel, stroked it several times, then said in a quiet voice, "Listen, Gordo, I-I think I just need to be alone right now, and you should probably be getting home, too."  
  
He winced, feeling intensely rejected by her words. "Li-Lizzie, I-I . . ."  
  
"Don't say anything, please. We can talk about, uh, what happened, or not, tomorrow, or, or some other time, you know?" She nervously pulled on her wet hair, still refusing to make eye contact with Gordo.  
  
He took a few steps closer to her. "Lizzie, I'm not sure you should be by yourself tonight."  
  
She saw him move towards him and instinctively took several steps back. "Gordo, please, just leave me alone, okay?"  
  
He was stunned by the tone in her voice. It sounded like, it sounded like . . . she's *afraid* of me . . . my best friend is scared of me. He felt both his throat and stomach tighten up and he was having a hard time breathing. Oh my god, what have I done?  
  
"Lizzie, I just feel awful about . . ."  
  
"No, Gordo, no!" She said icily. I don't want to talk about it, okay? Really, you should be getting home, and anyway, I don't know why you want to be with mesince I'm apparently too dumb to be your friend. Okay? So just go home, please, just -"  
  
She couldn't finish her sentence. She became lightheaded and dizzy and felt as if all the life in her was draining out of her body. "Ohhhh . . ." The room started to spin. "Oh my . . . ." she said as she began to collapse to the floor.  
  
"Lizzie!"  
  
He rushed over to her and just barely caught her slumping body. "Come on, Lizzie, let's get you over to the couch." He picked her up, took her by the shoulders and led her to the couch.  
  
"I-I'm fine, Gordo, I'm fine, I just need to sit down, that's all," she muttered.  
  
He laid her down, sat next to her and felt her forehead. Her skin was burning hot. "Lizzie, you're burning up, you've got a fever. We need to get you out of these wet clothes," he said, extremely concerned for the well being of his friend.  
  
"Oh, Gordo," she whispered, "you know what?"  
  
"What, Lizzie? What?"  
  
"I feel like crap!" She laughed softly, then started coughing and shivering. "I-it's so cold in here, I feel so co-cold." Her teeth chattered as she spoke.  
  
"Okay, you are really sick, Lizzie. As much as you may hate the sight of me right now, there's no way you should be alone right now. Okay? Let me take care of you."  
  
She nodded her head. "Okay, okay. But, but, I still hate you Gordo," she said in a delirious, drunken voice.  
  
Yeah, I know. And I'm so sorry, he muttered to himself. "Alright, first thing is you need to get out of those clothes and into a hot bath. Come on Lizzie, let me help you get upstairs to the bathroom." He gently pulled her up, grabbed a hold of her shoulders, and began to lead her up the stairs.  
  
When they reached the bathroom, he turned on the lights and sat her down on the edge of the bathtub. He reached over and turned on the faucet. The room was filled with the soft roar of the water pouring into the bathtub.  
  
He turned to Lizzie, who was looking at him impatiently. "Uh, is there something the matter, Lizzie? Do you need something?"  
  
"Gordo! What, are you going to stay in here and watch me undress?" She said incredulously, almost letting out a half-smile.  
  
"Oh! Oh yeah. My bad, Lizzie, I was just thinking about you, I didn't want to leave you alone. You're okay, though right? I mean, to be by yourself?"  
  
"Yes, I'm fine. But, what about you? You're still in you're soaking wet clothes," she said as she swam her fingers in the warm bathwater. "Mmmmm . . . the water feels wonderful."  
  
"Well, I was thinking that while you take your bath, I could run home, change, and also bring back some prescription flu medicine my parents got for me last year. That is, as long as you'll be okay, I mean, I don't want you falling asleep in the bathtub or something . . ."  
  
"I'm fine, Gordo, really I am."  
  
"Okay, then. I'll just ran home quickly and be back in no time. And, uh, hey, do you mind if I borrow your car? It's still raining out and . . . ."  
  
"Yes, of course. The keys are somewhere downstairs, I'm sure you'll find them."  
  
"Great. Okay, I'll let you alone, and I'll be right back. Need anything before I go?"  
  
"Yeah, could you bring some candle jars from my bedroom? I like taking a bath to candlelight," she said sheepishly, as if she were revealing a deep dark secret to Gordo.  
  
"Uh, sure, no problem." He smiled and quickly shuffled out the bathroom door. He entered her room and found candles littering her entire room. Lizzie and her candles, mused Gordo. He grabbed several off of her desk and marched back to the bathroom. The door was slight ajar, and he could hear Lizzie changing inside. He knocked and said, "Is it okay for me to come in?"  
  
"Hold on for a sec . . . . Okay, come on in," beckoned Lizzie.  
  
Gordo pushed open the door and walked in to see Lizzie sitting on the edge of the bathtub, still waiting for it to fill. Her wet clothes were on the floor and she was wrapped in a large bath towel. His eyes dropped at the sight. He looked at her crossed legs, her bare shoulders, her cropped up hair, and then he peered at her hazel eyes. She's so absolutely beautiful, he gasped, my god Lizzie, you take my breath away . . . .  
  
"You okay, Gordo? You look like a deer caught in headlights," she giggled.  
  
"Er-ah, um, yeah, I- I'm fine, I'm totally fine. Uh, here are your candles, yeah, that's it," he said, shaking his head.  
  
"Thanks, Gordo." She stood up, picked up a lighter, and lit the candles. Gordo just stood there, in the doorway, utterly bewitched by the sight of his friend.  
  
As she lit the last candle, she let out a cough, shuddered, turned to Gordo and said, "Thanks, Gordo, but, uh, shouldn't you be going now? I could really use some of that medicine you mentioned."  
  
"Oh yeah! Of course!" He snapped out of his hypnotic state. "Right, right, I'll be going now, right now. I'll, uh, see you in a bit, okay. Yeah." He closed the door behind him and marched downstairs, his mind filled with visions of Lizzie McGuire. She's so beautiful, she's so beautiful, he kept repeating to himself.  
  
He picked up Lizzie's car keys off the living room table, walked over to the television, turned it off, opened the front door and walked outside.  
  
He was met with a steady downpour of rain. When is this rain ever going to stop?  
  
He gulped a breath of air and sprinted to Lizzie's car. He quickly got in, switched on the ignition, and starting driving the short journey to his home. As he reached the stop sign, he glanced at the car clock, which informed him that it was several minutes past 10:00 p.m.  
  
Within a few minutes, he was home. Once inside, he headed straight towards the bathroom, shed his clothes, and jumped in tub for a quick shower. Oh man, this is going to feel good, he thought.  
  
After his brief but very pleasant shower, he dressed quickly, found the prescription medicine, then headed to his desk. Before he headed back, he wanted to check in with David on the ham radio, to tell him that Lizzie was alive.  
  
He plopped himself on his desk chair and attempted to contact David. Wow, it feels so good to be dry, he thought as he played with the signal on the radio. "David, are you there? It's me, Gordo. Let me know if you're hearing me."  
  
Silence.  
  
Hmm, that's odd, he thought. David said he would be at the radio all day and night. Wonder what's up? I hope we haven't lost the connection . . . .  
  
"David, are you there? It's me, it's me Gordo!" He looked at his watch. 10:15 p.m. I should be getting back to Lizzie soon, he mused, but I really want to talk to David before I go.  
  
Where is he?  
  
********************************************************************  
  
DAVID'S POV - Year 2015  
  
10:05 p.m.  
  
He couldn't help it, but as he waited for Gordo to contact him, he felt the burning desire to pace around, to move around, to not stand still.  
  
Come on, come on, contact me, contact me . . . .  
  
He looked at his watch, again, for about the hundredth time in the past half-hour. 10:06 p.m.  
  
He was starting to feel claustrophobic again, he was starting to feel an uneasy sense of doom. He could sense something was up, he could sense that something was in the air. . . .  
  
THUD!  
  
"Wha--?" He heard a loud noise at the back of the house.  
  
THUD! Another loud noise came from the backdoor. What the hell is that, he wondered. Is somebody there?  
  
He walked to the backdoor and flung it wide open and peered outside the door. Only the sound and sight of the rain greeted him.  
  
As he was about to close the door, he heard a loud screech and he saw something, a creature flying towards him. Oh crap . . . .  
  
He could see something that looked like a large dark bird heading towards his head. He knew he wouldn't be able to close the door in time, and he braced himself for the head - on collision.  
  
The nocturnal creature flew straight at David, grazing the top of his head. It screeched and fluttered about his house.  
  
Trying to avoid the creature, he slipped and hit his head on the hard tiled floor. A wave of pain flooded his consciousness, and everything started to turn dark and black. Just as he was about to slip into unconsciousness, he saw the winged creature fly over his body, out the door and back into the darkness of the wet night.  
  
Oh, it was a bat . . .. . oh man, I'm going to pass out . . . .but, Gordo, damn, I need to be there for Gordo, I need to be awake, I can't go unconscious. . . .  
  
With that last thought, at 10:10 p.m., his mind succumbed to the overwhelming will of a beckoning, alluring, sensual nothingness. 


	15. Chapter Fourteen Hope

Author's Note: Here's chapter fourteen! Sorry for the late update! I had a little writer's block with this story, but I think I'm "unblocked" now, and I've come up with a twist that you'll hopefully find interesting and provocative. The twist will come in either the next or following chapter. We're almost there! Please read and review. Thanks -- HM  
  
*****************************************************************  
  
David slowly opened his eyes and gazed at his surroundings. Everything was white, and he couldn't tell if he was inside a room or just floating in a sea of whiteness.  
  
Where am I? Am I dreaming?  
  
The last thing he remembered was being rendered unconscious when a stray vampire bat flew into his house and knocked him to the floor. And now, he was here in an unknown place, unsure about exactly what was going on.  
  
Or, maybe . . . maybe this is heaven . . . .  
  
"Well, it's sort of like heaven, David, you're right," said a voice from behind. The voice sounded awfully familiar . . . .  
  
He turned around to see Lizzie standing just a few feet away from him. "Lizzie???!? Is that really you?"  
  
"Who else would it be, Mr. Gordon?" She smiled.  
  
He stood there, transfixed, gazing in awe at the sight of his friend, *alive!* He took a step towards her, and he intently examined her face and body, slowly noticing that it was indeed his friend, Lizzie McGuire, but she was . . . older, she looked like as if she was in her late forties or early fifties. Still, he thought, still . . . she still is unbelievably beautiful, oh my god . . . .  
  
She blushed, smiled, and said, "Thanks, David. That's awfully sweet of you to say, thank you."  
  
He inched another step closer to her. "You-you can read my mind?"  
  
She nodded in affirmance.  
  
"I must be dreaming, right?"  
  
"No, David, you're not dreaming. Yes, you're unconscious, and this is all happening in your mind, but, this is all real, this is really happening."  
  
"Are you - are you, really -"  
  
"Lizzie? Yes and no, Gordo, yes and no. It's so very hard to explain, but, hmmm, I'll give a try . . . I'm really you're own vision of me, you're projection of what I would be like if I had lived and grown older. Does that make any sense?"  
  
"Not really, no."  
  
She laughed. "I totally understand your confusion, David, I really do. But, it doesn't have to make sense for you to accept me, to be here with me." She leaned into him, wrapped her arms around him and kissed him softly on his lips.  
  
As she kissed him, he closed his eyes, shivering from the warmth and tenderness flowing from the touch of her lips.  
  
He opened his eyes to see a much younger Lizzie this time, a Lizzie who looked like she was in her late twenties. Instinctively, he whispered to her, "You're so beautiful, Lizzie."  
  
She giggled, buried her face in his chest, and responded softly, "I love you, David, I love you so much Just believe in me, David, believe in me."  
  
"I - I-I'm not sure that I can, Lizzie, I --I'm sorry," he responded. He broke off contact and backed away from her.  
  
She stood there and gave him a somber look. "I know, I know, and that's why you didn't wake up in time to talk to Gordo, that's why you didn't save me, that's in part the reason that I die."  
  
"No! I don't want to hear that! You can't blame me for your death, you can't! It's not my fault, it's not my fault that Jimmy went insane and killed you!" He cried.  
  
"Oh, David, of course not! I'm not blaming you at all," she responded. She cautiously stepped towards him and embraced him. "No, it's not about that at all."  
  
He started to break down in tears. "I-I'm so sorry Lizzie, I'm so sorry . . . ."  
  
She peered directly into his eyes, smiled, and whispered, "There's nothing to be sorry about, okay? Believe in me, David, but more importantly, believe in yourself."  
  
"It's just so hard, you know?"  
  
"Mm-hmm. I know, sweetie, I know. But, you must understand, David, this is not about saving me, this is really about saving yourself, this is really about saving your soul, your beautiful, wonderful, amazing soul."  
  
"I - I don't know . . . ."  
  
"Yes, yes, you do, you do, David, deep in your heart, you do. The question is, are you going to choose to believe in yourself, or are you going to choose to believe in your doubts and fears?"  
  
With his head spinning, he held on tightly to her, feeling the confidence and love within her seep and flow into his very being. "I - I want to believe in myself, I do, I really do, Lizzie."  
  
"Then, you have to wake up, David! Wake up!" She urged.  
  
"You're right, you're right, I've gotta get up, I've gotta talk to Gordo!"  
  
She smiled, kissed him, and then said, "Just remember, I love you, okay? No matter what happens, I'll always love you."  
  
"I will, Lizzie, I will," he replied, with a renewed confidence and vigor.  
  
"And, Gordo? I'll see you soon, okay? I'll see you soon . . . ."  
  
****************************************************************  
  
"Ohhhh, man, my head," he groaned as he picked himself up from the floor. He carefully rubbed the tender spot where his head violently met the rock- hard tiled floor. "Ow!!" Okay, okay, lesson number one, don't touch the spot where it hurts.  
  
Dazed, groggy, and confused, he stood up, regained a hold of his senses, then slowly began making his way to the living room alcove, to the ham radio.  
  
Come on, come on, man, you gotta get there, you gotta get there for Gordo . . . .  
  
As he neared the ham radio, he could hear Gordo's voice trying to reach out to him.  
  
"David, are you there? Alright, looks like I missed you. I'm gonna head back to Lizzie's, I'll try to contact you tomorrow."  
  
Hold on, hold on, don't go yet!  
  
Even though it seemed like it took an eternity, he finally reached the ham radio. He grabbed the microphone and yelled, "Gordo! It's me! Don't go yet!"  
  
"David? Is that you? Wow, I was just about to sign off! I just want to tell you that we did it! Lizzie's alive!"  
  
"I know, Gordo, and I'm really proud of you."  
  
"Thanks, David. Man, it was such an intense night, though, I gotta tell you -"  
  
"Gordo! Stop, you've got to listen to me. It's not over yet, we haven't saved Lizzie yet."  
  
"Huh? What do you mean?"  
  
"I'm going to have to tell you this quickly, because you need to get back to Lizzie as soon as you can."  
  
"Okay, tell me, David, please."  
  
"We saved Lizzie for now, but she dies again when she's 23. She ended up marrying Jimmy and one day Jimmy just lost it and killed her and himself. She's still dead, Gordo, she's still dead!"  
  
"Oh my god, oh no, oh no, oh geez, oh geez . . . ."  
  
"Gordo, listen to me, we can do something about this, you can do something about this."  
  
"What David? What can I do? I mean, do you want me to wait seven years and then try to stop Jimmy?"  
  
"No, no, you can stop that from happening tonight. Here's what you've have to do . . . . "  
  
"What? What? Tell me and I'll do it, I'll do whatever it takes."  
  
"Gordo, you have to tell Lizzie how you feel about her. You have to tell her you love her, that we love her."  
  
"What???? I can't do that, David! Especially not tonight, she hates me, she truly hates me. Oh man, David, I said such awful things to her, I couldn't control myself, I didn't know what was happening to me, I was such an awful friend, I'm sorry, man, I almost blew it."  
  
"No, no, no! That's exactly the attitude that drove her to Jimmy! Trust me, Gordo, trust me . . . you have to tell her that you love her, you got that?"  
  
David's question was met with silence.  
  
"Gordo? You still there?"  
  
"Yeah, David, I'm just thinking, and I've gotta tell you, the thought of telling Lizzie how I feel about her is absolutely terrifying to me."  
  
David laughed, smiled, and then said, "Gordo, you're talking to me, remember? Of course I know how you feel!"  
  
"Oh, yeah, duh! I keep forgetting that I'm really talking to myself sometimes. Sorry, David!"  
  
"No problem, Gordo. This is all so strange, isn't it? Anyway, like I said, you have to trust me and tell her the truth. Don't be afraid of her, don't let her anger and hurt make you distant and cold. She needs you, she needs us. Believe in me, believe in yourself."  
  
"I-I don't know . . . ."  
  
David was beginning to feel frustrated with Gordo's resistance.  
  
Calm down, calm down, you're only getting mad at yourself, you know that? Be supportive, be supportive, that's what he needs from you right now.  
  
"Gordo, I know you can do it. Yeah, it's scary, but, you need to do it for us, for Lizzie, and for Jimmy. Lizzie and Jimmy were never meant to be together, they were never meant to die before their lives truly began. You got that?"  
  
"Yeah, I guess . . . ."  
  
"Listen to me, Gordo. Here's the god's honest truth."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You're meant to be with Lizzie, I'm meant to be with Lizzie. We love her, she loves us. It's the absolute truth, I know it."  
  
"Re-really? You think? That, you know, she could . . . truly love me, too?"  
  
"Yes! She's meant for us, Gordo, believe in that, okay? And believe in yourself. And I know you, you'll figure out a way to tell her, I know you will. Now, you've got to go, get back there right now!"  
  
"Alright, David, I'm off. And thanks for everything."  
  
"You're welcome, Gordo. And look, if I don't get a chance to talk to you again, you take care of yourself, alright? And take care of Lizzie for me, too."  
  
"I will. I'll try to contact you tomorrow and tell you what happened. Bye David, over and out."  
  
Goodbye Gordo, he muttered to himself, and good luck . . . .  
  
**********************************************************************  
  
10:25 p.m. - TWELVE YEARS EARLIER  
  
Gordo turned off the ham radio, gathered his belongings, and began to walk out the door. Just as he had one foot out the door, he stopped, turned around, looked at the ham radio, and then thought to himself, waitaminute, why not take the radio with me to Lizzie's? That way if something happens or something starts to go wrong, I could contact David on the radio and get some advice . . . .  
  
He stood there for a few more seconds then he decided to act on his idea. Luckily, his ham radio was small and portable and easy to set up. He carefully unplugged the radio, put it in a laundry bag, and then carried it with him to the car.  
  
A few minutes later, he was back at Lizzie's house. He set the ham radio in Sam's office next to the kitchen and then went upstairs to tell Lizzie that he was back. He walked towards the bathroom, and he could hear her inside, using a hairblower to dry her hair. The door was slightly ajar, so he gently knocked, and said, "Lizzie? It's me, Gordo, I'm back."  
  
She turned off the hairblower and opened the door. She was in a bathrobe, with her hair wrapped in a towel. She did not have a pleasant look on her face. "Great, you're here," she said in a sharp, monotone voice.  
  
Uh-oh, he thought. Guess she's still upset with me. "So, how are you feeling?"  
  
"Terrible, Gordo, terrible. How would you feel after you've been tackled and pummeled by someone in the pouring rain?"  
  
"Yeah, I'm sorry, you know -"  
  
"Whatever, Gordo. Did you bring me the medicine?"  
  
"Yeah, it's downstairs. You want me to bring it up to you?"  
  
"Don't bother. I'll be down in a second."  
  
"Oh, sure, sure, Lizzie, sure. I'll, ah, be waiting downstairs and -"  
  
SLAM!  
  
Before he could finish his sentence, she whipped the bathroom door in his face.  
  
Oh geez, this is not going well. He looked up at the ceiling and muttered, David, how am I going to tell her I love her when she looks like she wants to have me for lunch right now?  
  
As he trudged down the stairs, he suddenly smiled to himself as he remembered what David kept telling him just a few minutes ago . . . believe in yourself, trust yourself, you'll figure out a way . . . .  
  
And with that thought, he sprinted down the stairs and headed towards Sam's office and to his ham radio . . . .  
  
I've got an idea, and it just might work, it actually just might work . . . . 


	16. Chapter Fifteen Jealous Guy

Chapter Fifteen: Jealous Guy  
  
Here's the next chapter! Sorry again for the late update, too many things to do in life! There are probably 2 or 3 more chapters left, we're almost to the end. Thanks for sticking with the story, I mean it. Anyway, please read and review, I need to hear what you all think! : ) hm  
  
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Gordo quickly reached Sam's office, plopped down on the desk chair, and began to connect up the ham radio. He plugged the machine into the outlet, flipped it on, and began tuning its frequency.  
  
All he got was static.  
  
Hmmm . . . must be getting some bad reception. I'll try again a little bit later.  
  
He turned off the radio, sat back in the chair, gazed out the window into the night, and thought, don't worry about it, it's a last resort plan anyway. I'll implement the plan only if I have to, only if things don't go right . . . .  
  
As his thoughts trailed off, he heard Lizzie calling to him from the living room.  
  
"Gordo! Where are you?"  
  
He shouted, "I'm in your father's office, Lizzie! I'll be right out!"  
  
He jumped off the chair and quickly walked into the darkened living room. The only light was from a small lamp sitting next to the couch. He felt a foreboding emptiness in the room, as if it was completely devoid of any life. Maybe, he thought, the feeling of emptiness reflected the emotional distance and tension he was feeling between himself and Lizzie.  
  
Lizzie was sitting on the couch, in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, wrapped in a light-blue bathrobe. Her shoulders were slumped and her head down, as if she was falling asleep.  
  
Gordo quietly slipped onto the couch right next to her and gently tugged on her shoulder. "Lizzie?" He whispered.  
  
"Hmmm?" She slowly picked her head up and turned her sleepy eyes to Gordo.  
  
"Here, I got that medicine for you. You need to take one teaspoon every four hours," he said, as he grabbed a spoon from the coffee table and handed it to her.  
  
"Oh, thanks a bunch, Gordo," she replied in a faint whisper. "Hey, can you do me a favor? I feel really weak, could you pour the medicine into the spoon and feed it to me? I'm worried I'd spill it all over myself."  
  
"No problem." He carefully poured the purple syrup into the spoon, and with a hand underneath, carried it over to Lizzie's mouth and let her gulp it down.  
  
"Blecch!! Ugh, that tasted awful," she grimaced. "Gordo, could you run into the kitchen and get me some water, please, and some herbal tea?"  
  
"Sure, Lizzie, anything you want." He got up and started towards the kitchen.  
  
"Oh, and maybe bring me some chocolate mints. And some cookies, too, I'm feeling famished."  
  
He rolled his eyes in mock-frustration. "Yes, Ms. McGuire, David Gordon butler extraordinaire at your service. Will there be anything else for you? Some truffles to go along with your herbal tea, mints, and cookies?"  
  
She responded to his playful teasing with a blank stare. There was no sign of a smile or a laugh anywhere near her face. "I don't think that's very funny, Gordo."  
  
"Uh, Lizzie, I was just joking, okay? Sorry. Umm, I'll be right back."  
  
"Thank you," she coldly replied as she watched him disappear into the kitchen.  
  
This is just not going well, he muttered as he poured water into a coffee mug and put it into the microwave. But, what'd you expect? You basically called her a shallow loser for going out with Jimmy and then you went and tackled her to the ground in the pouring rain when she was already sick and now you've made her even sicker.  
  
Sigh . . . it's a wonder that she even wants to speak with you still. Hmm, maybe I'll need to go Plan B sooner than I thought . . . .  
  
BEEP BEEP BEEP!!  
  
The beeping of the microwave interrupted his train of thought. He opened the microwave door, took the steaming cup of hot water and then dipped a lemon herb tea bag into it. He put the cup on a tray alongside some mints, cookies, and a glass of water, picked it up and took it to the living room.  
  
One thing's for sure, I sure do feel like a butler right now . . .  
  
He entered the living room to see Lizzie lying on the couch, her head on a pillow, her eyes open, staring blankly into the darkened t.v. screen. She coughed violently several times, her body curled up into a fetal position. Her arms were wrapped around her shoulders in a helpless attempt to keep herself warm.  
  
Even from a few feet away he noticed her body shaking visibly, violently.  
  
Oh my god, she's so sick . . . .  
  
His anger and frustration with her emotional distance and coldness quickly evaporated and were instantly replaced with feelings of intense concern for her well-being. He dropped the tray on the coffee table and went over to the couch, sat right next to her, placed his hand on her shaking body and whispered, "Hey, Lizzie, you okay there?"  
  
Sitting next to her, seeing her in such a vulnerable and weakened state, brought out in him feelings of tenderness and love. He wanted nothing more than to be able to make things all better for her, it pained him so much to see her suffering in this way. He wanted nothing more than to take her in his arms and to warm her up with the loving and compassionate touch of his body; he wanted nothing more than to whisper into her ears over and over again that he loved her with all of his heart and that tonight he was so unbelievably scared and terrified because he thought he was going to lose her forever.  
  
"Ohhh, Gordo, I feel so co-cold," she responded, her teeth chattering uncontrollably.  
  
"You've got the chills, Lizzie," he said. And it's all my fault, ugh, I'm such an idiot, I couldn't do a simple thing like not getting into a fight with her . . . .  
  
Instinctively, he began to rub her arms and shoulders, trying to warm her up. "Listen, here's what I'll do, I'm gonna get you some blankets from upstairs and then I'll start a fire, we'll get you warmed up in no time, okay?"  
  
"Th-thanks, Gordo. You're great," she said. Then, after a brief pause, she smiled weakly and said, "But I still hate you."  
  
He couldn't help but let out a small laugh. Geez, McGuire, even when you're totally sick there's no stopping you from telling me how you really feel! I don't know why, but you're still adorable even when you're hating my guts. . . . "Yeah, yeah, I know, McGuire, you don't have to remind me. Alright, I'll be right back, okay?"  
  
"Oh- okay. Hurry back, please," she said as she closed her eyes and grabbed herself even more tightly with her arms.  
  
He rushed up the stairs, dashed into Lizzie's room, picked up her blanket and some candles and rambled down the stairs. He gently placed the blanket over her body then walked over to the fireplace and started to kindle the fire. In a few minutes, a small but warm fire had sprung to life and was slowly but determinedly warming up the living room.  
  
There! He looked at the fire with a sense of personal satisfaction, then he took a lighter and lit up the candles and placed them on the coffee table.  
  
The living room suddenly took on an entirely new atmosphere. The light from the fire and candles generously sprinkled the room with a warm, cozy, intimate glow. The light from the fire cast friendly shadows all over the room, and it now felt as if there were kind and caring spirits there, watching over them, gracing them with comfort, love, and good will.  
  
He stood a few feet away from the couch, gazing at Lizzie, immobilized with uncertainty. Should I . . . should I go over to her? Or should I just stand back here, at a distance, and give her some space? I mean, she hates me right now, maybe she'd rather me stay as far away from her as possible . . . .  
  
No! He slapped himself on his head. Come on, remember what David told you, you have to get over your fears and your worries and you have to be there for her! It's her life that's at stake, remember? We're fighting for her life!  
  
He walked over, sat besides her, pulled the blanket over her shoulders, and gazed intently at her face. He could feel her warming up from the fire, and her chills were slowly disappearing. She appeared more comfortable and relaxed, her distress slowly melting away.  
  
A soft smile started to form on her lips. With her eyes closed, she muttered, "Ohhh, the fire feels so good. Thanks, Gordo."  
  
"You're welcome, sweetie," he instinctively whispered.  
  
Wha? Waitaminute, did I just call her "sweetie?" Oh man, did I really just say that?  
  
Lizzie kept smiling, then she knowingly opened one eye, looked at Gordo, and said, in a sly, flirtatious voice, "You're sweet. But I still hate you." And she chuckled lightly and then closed her eyes once again.  
  
A broad grin formed on his face. He thought, at least she's starting to joke with me now!  
  
Things were starting to feel more normal and less icy, as the fire was not only warming their bodies, it seemed, it was warming both their hearts as well.  
  
And as he sat there next to Lizzie, he was quickly succumbing to overwhelming feelings of tenderness and affection for her. The next he knew, his left hand, as if it were possessed by some supernatural force, reached over and gently lifted her hair and curled them around her ear.  
  
He was dumbfounded. He didn't mean to do what he just did, he just did it. His body was now under the firm control of his heart and not his head.  
  
He then began to softly and slowly stroke her hair. With his other free hand, he picked up her hand, held on to it tenderly, and began to gently massage and stroke her fingers.  
  
I have no idea why I'm doing this, but just go with it man, just go with the flow . . . .  
  
"Ohh, Gordo, that feels so nice," she murmured happily. A half-smile seemed permanently etched on her face as she let Gordo comfort and take care of her. She was pleasantly surprised with his physical affection, because for as long as they've been friends, he had never been comfortable with physical contact, almost as if he were afraid to touch her.  
  
But, now, in the middle of the night, she had a hard time holding on to her anger and resentment as they seemed to be melting away with each time he stroked her hair, with each time he gently caressed her fingers.  
  
Suddenly, though, against her will, painful memories of the night began to pop back into her head, and she began to replay some of the things Gordo had said to her. She opened her eyes, slowly picked herself up, and sat up on the couch.  
  
She grabbed her spinning head, put her hand on his shoulders to steady herself, then looked into his eyes, and said, softly, calmly, "Gordo? Can I ask you something?"  
  
She had a sad, quizzical look on her face. But, there was no trace of anger, only a look of curious grief.  
  
He was hypnotized by her gaze. They were only a few inches apart, and the tender warmth of her body was sending electric chills down his spine.  
  
"Mm-hhm," he nodded as he gave her hair one last loving stroke. She glanced down and closed her eyes, and smiled, letting him know that she liked his show of affection.  
  
Whew! He sighed with relief. He didn't know why, but whenever he touched her, it felt like he was doing something that required her permission, because he was so not used to being this way with her, this was entirely new to him, and to her. And he was desperate from signs from her telling her it was okay, signs telling him that she *wanted* him to touch her.  
  
She peered carefully into his eyes. "Gordo, did you . . . did you mean, you know, those things you said about me?"  
  
He grimaced. He hated being reminded of the pain that he had inflicted on his best friend, on the girl he loved. He wanted to completely erase the awful earlier chain of events from his consciousness.  
  
But, clearly, Lizzie hadn't forgotten.  
  
And what made this even worse was that he knew that he had said those things to her twice, in two different lifetimes, in two different worlds.  
  
He turned away from her and stared mindlessly at the candle on the coffee table. He looked at dancing, flickering candle light, summoned up his courage, then returned his gaze back to Lizzie.  
  
He placed his hand on her hand. "Lizzie, I don't know what the future brings, but I know one thing for certain. For the rest of my life I'm always going to regret that I said things to you that hurt you deeply, even though I didn't mean it, not one word of it. I know I've said this a million times tonight, but I hope one day you can understand just how sorry I am for everything I said, for everything I did tonight."  
  
"Oh, Gordo . . . " she whispered. She could see his eyes tear up, and she reached over, held his face with her hand, and gave him a look of forgiveness.  
  
"I- I believe you, I do, but, what I want to know, is, why-why did you say those things then? She said, her voice quivering. "Oh my god, Gordo, those were the most awful things I've ever heard, and to hear them from you . . . oh god, it hurt so much . . . ." Her voice trailed off into a whisper and he barely was able to hear her.  
  
As soon as she finished her sentence, she buried her face in her hands and quietly weeped.  
  
He winced again, as he felt and absorbed like a sponge all of her hurt, all of her feelings of betrayal, all of her feelings of sorrow.  
  
Okay, you've got to tell her, NOW. Now's the time, do it, tell her how you feel . . . .  
  
"Lizzie, alright, here's the truth."  
  
She looked up at Gordo, tears streaming down her face.  
  
On instinct, he reached over and with his fingertips, carefully brushed away the teardrops from her cheeks.  
  
She shivered with his touch.  
  
She felt it.  
  
He felt it.  
  
It was a response of intimacy, of reciprocal longing.  
  
"Wha- what is it, Gordo? What do you want to tell me?" She whispered.  
  
"Lizzie, you know that song, by John Lennon, you know, the one we both really like?"  
  
She stared at him quizzically. "Of course, I do! I adore that song . . . but, what does that have to do with us?"  
  
"You know how that song goes, right?" He started to hum the song's lyrics. "I was dreaming of the past, and my heart was beating fast . . . ."  
  
She smiled, then began to sing the next line. "and I began to lose control, I began to lose control . . . ."  
  
He returned her smile with one of his own, took a deep breath, then began to hum the next line. "I didn't mean to hurt you . . . ."  
  
A sense of recognition and understanding began to come over her as she whispered the next line. "I'm sorry that I made you cry . . . . "  
  
Okay, this is it . . . he stroked her hair again and let his hand fall delicately down her cheeks, brushing them affectionately. Her cheeks, flushed already from her fever, were turning even a brighter shade of crimson.  
  
He closed his eyes, unable to look into her face anymore and hummed, "I didn't want to hurt you, I'm just a . . . jealous guy."  
  
"Ohhh, Gordo . . . ."  
  
He continued. "I was feeling so insecure, you might not love me anymore, I was shivering inside, I was shivering inside . . . ."  
  
He paused to open his eyes and to gauge Lizzie's reaction. Newborn tears were gracefully sliding down her cheeks and she returned Gordo's gaze with a curious empathy which told him what he was saying was touching her heart deeply.  
  
Again, instinctively, he leaned into her and kissed her lightly on her cheek.  
  
Then he finished humming the lyrics to the song. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Lizzie, I'm sorry that I made you cry, I didn't want to hurt you, it's just that, it's just that I'm a jealous guy . . . ."  
  
He paused to let himself absorb the amazing reality of the situation - he was finally telling her how he felt about her. He breathed deeply, then he leaned into her again. He ran his fingers down her face then he kissed her lips; and before she could respond, he embraced her tightly and whispered into her ear, "I'm so sorry, Lizzie, I said all those things to you because I was jealous of you and Jimmy, because . . . well, because, I - I love you, Lizzie McGuire, because I'm so in love with you . . . . " 


	17. Chapter Sixteen Revelations

A Second Chance – Chapter Sixteen  
  
Author's Note – Okay, it's been ages, but finally, here it is, the next chapter to A Second Chance. Thanks for your patience, truly. I've been suffering from writer's block for the past several months, and hopefully that block is now gone and I'll be able to finish my stories quickly. Please read and review! HM  
  
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He paused to let himself absorb the amazing reality of the situation - he was finally telling her how he felt about her. He breathed deeply, then he leaned into her again. He ran his fingers down her face then he kissed her lips; and before she could respond, he embraced her tightly and whispered into her ear, "I'm so sorry, Lizzie, I said all those things to you because I was jealous of you and Jimmy, because . . . well, because, I - I love you, Lizzie McGuire, because I'm so in love with you . . . . "  
  
After having finally said the words he had been waiting virtually his entire life to say, he hung to Lizzie as tightly as he could, afraid to let go of her, afraid to hear what she would say in response.  
  
She didn't say a word, but just returned Gordo's embrace, and just held on to him with all of her heart. Right now, she just couldn't let go of him, she didn't want to let go him, she just didn't want this moment to end.  
  
As she lightly stroked his back with her hands, he could feel a soothing, soft heat flow from her face to his, and his anxieties and fears began to quickly melt away.  
  
Even though no words were being exchanged, he could feel her heart reaching out to his, he could feel the love that was flowing from her body to his.  
  
Yes, he was absolutely sure, he knew it deep down in his heart . . . Lizzie, in her silent manner, in the passionate way she held onto his embrace , was telling Gordo just how she much she loved him.  
  
As the two continued to hold onto each other as if their lives depended on it, the only sounds that could be heard was the rain continuing to pour its soul onto the earth and Lizzie's soft, muffled sobbing.  
  
"Oh, Gordo . . . ." she finally said. She took a pregnant pause, then began to speak again, in the softest voice she could muster. "I – I . . . "  
  
As she struggled to get the words out of her mouth, he gently and slowly shed his embrace, reluctantly pulled his face from hers, and smiled into her eyes. "Hi you."  
  
He continued to smile as he waited for her to respond.  
  
It was strange, he thought, at how calm and peaceful he felt as he patiently waited to hear her voice.  
  
In the arms of the girl he loved, he knew that there was not a reason in the world to be fearful of anything.  
  
And so, he wasn't afraid . . . he wasn't afraid in the least bit. All of his fears of rejection were gone, and all he could feel was a sense of enormous confidence bursting from within, seeking release, seeking rebirth.  
  
Because he had finally kissed her! Because he had finally told her he loved her!  
  
He felt . . . free, free at least . . . he felt as if a hundred thousand years of burden and fear and agony had finally lifted off of his weary, lonely shoulders. And he couldn't help but smile at the sheer beauty of this surreal, eerily amazing, utterly romantic and wonderful moment.  
  
"Go-Gordo?"  
  
"Hmm? Yes, Lizzie?" He asked, his eyes still firmly and intently gazing at her tired yet still glowing and beautiful face.  
  
She put her hand on his face, then, slowly, tentatively, gingerly, she inched her body and face closer and reached out and gently, sweetly kissed him, and let herself melt into his heart.  
  
She – she just kissed me! Thought Gordo, as he began to blush madly. Oh my god, is this a dream? I sure hope to God not, I want this to be real, I want to remember everything about this moment always.  
  
Lizzie smiled as she watched Gordo's joyful reaction to her kiss. She quickly kissed him on his crimson cheeks, then whispered, "how . . . how long have you felt that way, you know, about me? How long have you . . . "  
  
"For as long as I can remember," he replied softly. There was deep sadness in his voice when he said those words, and she was slowly beginning to understand the depths to which he had longed for her all these years.  
  
She averted her eyes and started to gaze at the floor. "Why didn't you ever tell me, Gordo?"  
  
"What, and risk being rejected by the only girl I've ever loved, and risk losing my best friend in the whole world? Uh –uh, no way, that would've been way too scary . . . . "  
  
She blushed, still unsure of herself, still not quite used to having her best friend tell her just how deeply he was in love with her.  
  
She paused, took a deep breath, then said, "I – I wish you would've told me this two weeks ago . . . you know, before I started dating Jimmy, you know, m-my boyfriend." She couldn't look into his eyes as she referred to Jimmy as her boyfriend.  
  
He knew that answer was coming. And yet, he wasn't daunted. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he felt quite prepared for the challenge he was facing– the challenge to win Lizzie's heart, the challenge to save her soul.  
  
"I know you like Jimmy, and he's a nice guy, despite all the things I've said. But, you've got to listen to me, you've got to believe me, you and Jimmy just aren't meant to be together." He gathered his breath, and then continued, "And I know this, because we – because we belong together, Lizzie McGuire, you, and me."  
  
"Ohh!" She said, taken aback with the sheer confidence with which Gordo spoke. "I – I don't know, I mean, you're my best friend, I just don't know if I can see you as something more, you know? And with Jimmy, I really liked him, he's really sweet, and I don't have a clue how I feel anymore . . . ohmigosh, this is all happening soo fast . . . ."  
  
She grabbed her head as if she were about to faint.  
  
Deeply concerned, he held onto her even more tightly, making sure that she knew that she was completely safe in his arms.  
  
"Gordo?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"How – how do you know?"  
  
"Know what?"  
  
"Know that, you know, know . . . about us. You know what I mean," she stammered.  
  
He laughed. She's so cute when she's nervous, he thought to himself.  
  
"Gordo! Are you laughing at me?" She said as she grabbed a throw pillow and playfully slammed it against his head.  
  
"Owww! Watch it, McGuire, just because I'm in love with you doesn't mean I won't fight back! You know I'm a really proficient and deadly pillow fighter."  
  
She giggled, then started coughing. She was still feeling extremely weak from the turbulent events of the night.  
  
"Okay, truce on the pillow fight," she said. "But, you haven't answered my question. How do you know? How can you be so . . . sure?"  
  
He took a deep breath, shook his head, and began thinking about the best to tell Lizzie what he was about to tell her.  
  
He didn't want it to come down to this, but he felt he had no choice. Her life was at stake.  
  
He closed his eyes, grabbed the glass of water from the coffee table, took a slow sip, then he began to mentally prepare to tell his best friend the truth – that tonight, he had saved her from dying, but that, in a few years, unless he could change history, she was going to die at the tender age of 24. 


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Author's Note: After another lengthy delay, here's the next chapter!  
  
---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ------------------------------- Second Chance – Chapter 18  
  
"Okay, truce on the pillow fight," she said. "But, you haven't answered my question. How do you know? How can you be so . . . sure?"  
  
He took a deep breath, shook his head, and began thinking about the best to tell Lizzie what he was about to tell her.  
  
He didn't want it to come down to this, but he felt he had no choice. Her life was at stake.  
  
He closed his eyes, grabbed the glass of water from the coffee table, took a slow sip, then he began to mentally prepare to tell his best friend the truth – that tonight, he had saved her from dying, but that, in a few years, unless he could change history, she was going to die at the tender age of 24 . . . .  
  
"Lizzie, I know that we're meant to be together, because, well . . . ," Gordo stopped his sentence as he lifted up her left hand, took hold of it, and started gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.  
  
The soft tenderness of her hand made his heart quiver, as he thought to himself, I never want to let her hand go . . . .  
  
She closed her eyes and sighed a deep breath as she felt a warm tingling sensation go up her arm. Gordo's touch felt like magic. She then looked down at her feet before lifting her head and staring inquisitively into his eyes. "Tell me, Gordo, tell me how you know about us, how you're so certain."  
  
He squeezed her hand tightly, took a deep breath, and then looked up at the ceiling, wracked with uncertainty and nervousness.  
  
He thought to himself, if I tell her the truth and she's going to think I'm a nut-job. I can't tell her that I've been talking to my future self and tell her what's going to happen to her in the future. My god, how in the world do you tell the girl you love that she's supposed to die in just a few years?  
  
Overcome by a sense of despair, he hung his head and began to shake his head back and forth in dismay.  
  
"Go on," she intoned, "It's okay, I'm listening."  
  
Her melodic, soothing voice snapped him out of his hypnotic daze, and he lifted his head up and slowly focused his eyes back on her.  
  
Even though he had just laid eyes on her face but a moment ago, upon gazing at her face once again, he felt as if he was struck by lightening, so stunned was he by her ethereal beauty. It was as if he was seeing her for the first time in his life, and he felt himself seized by his overwhelming desires as he leaned into her face and kissed her softly on her lips and then whispered, "you're so beautiful."  
  
Surprised by the kiss, deeply moved by his words, Lizzie blushed slightly, taken pleasantly aback by her best friend's unexpected show of romantic affection.  
  
She was left momentarily speechless. She waited for a brief second, then closed her eyes, and started to speak. She was just about to tell Gordo that she loved him, but before she could utter those words, something inside of her pulled her back and prevented her from speaking from her heart. Instead, she said, "Umm . . . is, um . . was . . . was that what you wanted to say to me? You know we're meant to be together because you think I'm beautiful?"  
  
Gordo let out a nervous laugh, feeling extremely self-conscious of himself. All of this was so brand new to him, he had never spoken to a girl in this way, and he felt completely unsure of what he was doing. All he knew was that he was doing and saying things to her that he had been wanting to do forever, he was doing and saying things he had pictured himself doing in his dreams.  
  
"Umm . . . no, that wasn't what I wanted to say to you, that just came out, it slipped." He paused, then asked nervously, "Was, was that okay, Lizzie? I'm sorry if that wasn't alright with –"  
  
She cut off his sentence with a kiss on his cheeks, and then with a playful tug of his scruffy hair. "Of course that was alright, it was more than alright, that was such a sweet thing to say to me. Thank you."  
  
"You're welcome," he replied with a broad smile on this face.  
  
"Alright, not that I'm complaining about being called beautiful, but, back to you telling me how you know for certain we belong together."  
  
Okay, one more deep breath, he thought, and then here goes . . .  
  
"Alright, look, I know what I'm going to tell you is going to sound utterly fantastic and unreal, but you have to trust me on this, okay? You have to believe me."  
  
"Okay, sure, yes, yes, yes, now tell me before I hit you over the head with my deadly pillow!"  
  
"No, not the deadly pillow!" He let out a tiny laugh then gathered himself to speak again. "Alright, in all seriousness now, remember, yesterday, when you and Miranda were over at my house, and I had you talk to my friend David on the ham radio?"  
  
"Of course I do. Your friend seemed really nice, but he sounded really sad when he talked to me."  
  
"Yeah, he's a nice guy, I know him really well."  
  
"You do? You never mentioned him to me before. Who is he, Gordo?"  
  
"He's someone very, very close to me. David Gordon is his full name."  
  
"Oh really? You and your ham radio friend have the same name! What an amazing coincidence!"  
  
"You don't know the half of it yet. Anyway, David's 28 years old, and he's a filmmaker living out in Santa Monica."  
  
"Ohmigosh, he sounds just like you. This is really amazing, it's great that you guys hooked up, he could really help you out with your film career!"  
  
"Yeah, he's a lot like me. In more ways than you can imagine."  
  
"Really? Next thing you're going to tell me is that his nickname is Gordo and that his best friend's name is a beautiful blonde girl named Lizzie."  
  
He responded immediately, before his nerves prevented him from speaking. "That's exactly right. His nickname is in fact Gordo, and his best friend was a beautiful blonde girl named Lizzie."  
  
Her face turned still and serious. She was slowly trying to take in what he was telling her. It wasn't making any sense. He must be joking, she thought.  
  
"That can't be, Gordo. That's just not possible. You're making all of this up, right? Trying to play a joke to try and cheer me up?"  
  
He took both her hands this time and held on to them as tightly and reassuringly as he could. "I wish I were joking, honest to God I do. Lizzie, I know you're not going to believe this, but you have to trust me . . . David Gordon, the man I've been talking to, he's, well, he's me. He's me except 12 years older. He's living in the future, I've been talking to myself in the future."  
  
She didn't respond, she just stared at him blankly. It was as if she had just been told that martians had landed on earth. After a few uncomfortable moments passed, she finally whispered, "Gordo, this isn't funny. Please stop this, right now."  
  
"I can't, Lizzie. I don't understand it myself, I didn't believe it myself at first, but it's for real. Lizzie, you know me, look into my eyes, you know when I'm being serious, when I'm telling you the truth, from my heart. What I'm telling is you the god's honest truth."  
  
She tried to pull her hands away but he wouldn't let go.  
  
"Please, Lizzie, just listen to me, just listen to what I have to say, it's so important, for me, for us, for our future."  
  
She stopped resisting, and with a skeptical sigh, she turned her head back to Gordo, paused for a moment, thinking back on everything he had said, and started to speak. Just as she opened her mouth, she was hit with a sudden realization that stopped her thoughts dead in their tracks. Her body became very weak again, and she felt a light-headedness starting to fill up in her head.  
  
She then peered into Gordo's deadly serious eyes, and started to speak in a slow, measured voice. "I don't believe any of this, but, let's just pretend what you're saying is true, okay?"  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Then, what I want to know is, you know, when you talked about David, you said his nickname is Gordo, and then you said his best friend's name was Lizzie. You meant that his best friend's name is Lizzie, right? Are you telling me that we're no longer friends when we're older?"  
  
His eyes cringed. Okay, it's the moment of truth. You have to tell her, now. There's no turning back.  
  
"The answer is yes and no. He, I, still cares about you, he still so in love with you, but . . . but . . . " Gordo's voice started wavering.  
  
"But what, Gordo? Tell me!" She cried, with a sense of raw urgency in her voice.  
  
"She's . . . dead, David's Lizzie, she's gone . . . you're gone, you're not with David 12 years from now. David told me you were supposed to die tonight in a car crash. But, I stopped that. I saved you tonight. But, that's not the end of it. He told me that you still end up dying seven years from now, when you're 23. Jimmy kills you. You marry him, you guys get into a fight, and he kills you and then himself."  
  
He paused to catch his breath and to gauge Lizzie's reaction. Her eyes betrayed a stoney glaze, as she seemed almost in a catatonic stage. She did not move at all.  
  
"Listen to me, Lizzie, I'm telling you all of this because we can change the future! The future hasn't happened yet! You just have to break up with Jimmy, if you guys don't end up together, then he won't be anywhere near you and he won't be able to do anything to you, and then you'll live, you'll be alive, with me, in the future, and everything will be alright, everything will be wonderful!"  
  
He spoke breathlessly, trying to get everything out as quickly as he could. Once he had said everything, he was left panting, gasping for air, and waiting anxiously for Lizzie's response . . . . 


	19. Chapter Eighteen

A Second Chance – Chapter 18

A deathly silence fell over the McGuire house. Lizzie sat there, motionless, her hands still gently laying in Gordo's palm, with a glazed look on her face, as if she was caught in a hypnotic trance. Her eyes were wide open, yet it looked like she was asleep. Although her silent gaze was fixed firmly on his face, it was as if she was looking through him rather than at him.

Even though only a few seconds had passed since he had told her the truth, for Gordo, time passed as if it were going in slow motion. He felt himself entrapped in an agonizing eternity.

Damn it, Gordo, you shouldn't have told her all of that at once! You've sent her into shock. Stupid, stupid, stupid!

"Uh, Lizzie, are, are you okay?" He asked gingerly, as he gave her hands an inquisitive squeeze.

She responded with a chilly silence.

After another few forever seconds had passed, he could feel her trying to pull her hands away from him. This time, he reluctantly let her hands go.

As soon as her hands were free, she lifted herself up off the couch, scooted away from Gordo, and sat back down at the far end.

He watched her and shook his head, realizing he had made a mistake. He could sense the emotional distance growing between them and engulfing the entire house.

He shifted his body to try to move closer to her, but his attempt was quickly rebuffed.

"Gordo, stop. Please don't come closer to me. I – I just need some space, that's all. I'm feeling claustrophobic all of a sudden," she said in a soft, solemn, defeated voice.

"Uh, sure, no problem," he said, as he stopped his movement and settled back into his original spot on the couch.

"Thanks."

"Lizzie?" He said, with great trepidation. He found himself feeling incredibly nervous, completely unsure of how she was feeling right now.

"Yes?"

"What—what do you think? You know, about what I just told you? I know it's a lot to take in, I'm so sorry about that, but I really wanted to ---"

"Gordo, stop, I think I get it, so you don't have to keep saying that stuff, okay?" She said, with a palpable tremble in her voice.

He could tell that she was extremely emotional, but still, he couldn't figure out what she was feeling, he couldn't read her at all. She seemed on the verge of tears.

Was she angry about the situation? Was she angry with him? Was she sad? But, more importantly, did she believe what he had just told her?

"You get it? You mean, you understand? So, you believe me, Lizzie?"

She gave him a piercing stare. "No, I – I don't believe you, I'm sorry, Gordo."  
  
Her answer hit him like a sledgehammer. He felt a terrible sinking feeling in his stomach, and he could feel himself losing energy. For some reason, when she told him that she didn't believe him, it felt like she had just told him that she didn't love him.

"But, but, you have to belie –"

Lizzie quickly cut him off. "Please, stop. Don't explain. I – I already know why you're telling me all this awful stuff. It's because, you know, you – you . . ."

She was having immense difficulty finishing her sentence.

"Because I what?" He asked with fearful curiosity. What in the world is she getting at?

She paused, then whispered, "It's because you . . . you're in love with me, that's why you're lying to me and saying those awful things to me." As she finished her sentence, her face quickly turned a bright shade of crimson. She was suddenly overwhelmed with feelings of self-consciousness, as she began to feel the awkwardness of having her best friend telling her that he had been in love with her for all these years.

He was floored by her answer. She thinks I'm lying to her! And because I love her I'm lying to her?

With a tinge of anger, frustration, and confusion in his voice, he replied in as slow and calm a voice as possible, "Lizzie, I really have no clue what you're talking about. Why would my feelings for you make me tell you something that's not true? Why would I lie to you?"

"Because you're jealous, of Jimmy, of me and Jimmy, and this is your crazy way of trying to get me to break up with him. But, it's not working, it's not, all your story is doing is making me feel really hurt, you know? Why can't you see that, Gordo?" She said, as she turned her back to him and began to cry.

She was crying because she couldn't believe that her best friend would go to such lengths and tell her awful lies about how she was going to die if she continued to see Jimmy. Perhaps someone blinded by love and infatuation might say such hurtful things in order to win a person's love, but, a friend , a true friend, would never be so deceitful, so calculating, so malicious. I don't want him to be in love with me if it means I'm going to lose him as my friend, she thought. . . .

And so, at this moment, it felt as if she had just lost her best friend, it felt like there no longer was anyone in the world that she could trust, no one she could have faith in.

She felt incredibly alone.

"Lizzie," he said as he moved towards her to comfort her.

As his right hand touched her back, she immediately shrugged her shoulders and said softly, "Please don't touch me right now, Gordo, please."

He quickly took his hand off of her back, and not knowing quite what to do with himself, he stood up and began pacing back and forth in front of the couch.

Of course, he thought, that story you just told her must have sounded like some ridiculous fabrication conjured up by one desperate, imaginative fool made up in order to get Lizzie to go out with you. Alright, you're making a complete mess of things, but you've got to keep trying, you've got to make her believe . . . .

He stopped pacing and stood right above where Lizzie was laying, her head resting on the armrest, her knees tucked into her chest. He pushed aside the coffee table, knelt down on his knees, and directly faced the back of her head. He could still hear her quietly sobbing, and he wanted desperately to comfort her, to stroke her soft blonde hair, to tell her that everything is going to be alright, but he knew right now that the last thing she wanted was to be comforted by him.

So, still on his knees, he whispered to her, "Lizzie, I know you're really upset and confused right now, but I just want you to listen to me, okay?"

He could hear her crying slow down, as if she was letting him know that she was listening. He then continued. "I know what I told you must sound totally insane, and I completely understand if you think I've lost all my marbles. I know what you're going through, because I had the same reaction when David told me the same thing. I just couldn't believe it. So, right now, I really don't expect you to fully believe anything I've said."

He stopped, wondering what she was thinking. But, whatever he was saying, he had the feeling that it was getting through to her, as he could sense her body start to soften and loosen up, as if she were putting down her guard and becoming more open to what he was saying.

Sensing an opening, he instinctively lifted his right hand and began to lightly stroke her hair.

Slightly surprised by his tender touch, she shook her head slightly, then she quickly she let herself go and relented to the soothing caress of his fingers.

Okay, she doesn't totally hate me, he thought, as he breathed a sigh of relief. He hadn't lost her yet. As he continued to stroke her hair, he said, "But, Lizzie, here's something I need to tell you, something that I really want you to hear."

With those words, she turned around to face Gordo. Her eyes were red and teary, but he could see a sparkle in those weary eyes, a spark that was telling him that she was opening up to him again and that she was listening.

He reached for her right hand and interlocked his fingers with hers. He said in a slow, soft voice, "I know I said some awful things earlier tonight, and yes, you're right, I am jealous of Jimmy. But, Lizzie, believe me, I would never, ever lie to you. Never. Because as much as I'm in love with you and want to be with you and want you to be with me, the biggest thing I fear is losing you as my friend, as my best friend. And best friends never lie to each other, and I know I'd lose you as my friend if I ever lied to you."

"Oh, Gordo . . . ." she said, as the sparkle in her eyes grew larger and larger. I haven't lost him, she thought, I still have him, I still have my best friend . . . .

"I know things must seem so topsy turvy and confusing right now, "he said.

She sat up, flashed him a wry smile, and said, "Uh, yeah! This whole night has been soooo weird."

"Yeah, I know. I'm so sorry,"he said, as he leaned over and gave her a comforting kiss on her cheek.

She returned his kiss with a soft, affectionate smile. She thought, I'm getting really used to having Gordo kiss me . . . .

"But right now, I'm not asking you to believe the things I've said, all I'm asking you is to believe in me, and to trust in me."  
  
"Yes, I trust you, I believe in you, Gordo."

"Great. Now, come with me. Are you feeling okay enough to get up?"  
  
"Yes, why?"  
  
"I have an idea for really convincing you that what I said is true. I want you come with me to your father's office. I've set up the ham radio there. "  
  
"The ham radio?"  
  
"Yeah, I brought it over, just in case I needed to talk to David again. But, I've got a new idea, and hopefully, this will convince you that I'm telling the truth. We're going to get on that radio and we, you, we're both going to talk to David, and he'll tell you everything."

"What?" She said with great incredulousness. If what Gordo is saying is true, then, I'm about to talk to the adult version of him, she thought. That's just so strange. "You mean, you want me to talk with this person whom you're saying is you, except he's 12 years older and he's living in the future?"

"Yes," he replied with firm conviction. "Please, Lizzie, just trust me, have faith in me, I promise, you'll soon understand everything that's happened tonight. Take that leap of faith with me, McGuire."

Leap of faith? Yes, he certainly was indeed asking her to take an enormous leap of faith. But, she thought, isn't that what friends do? "Oh, okay, "she answered.

"Great! C'mon!" He took her by her hands and gently lifted her up off the couch. He put his arm around her shoulder and they slowly walked over to her father's office.

He took her over and placed her in the office chair. He then grabbed a wooden chair next to the door, brought it over to the desk and sat on it. He quickly turned on the radio, tuned into David's frequency, and began to talk into the microphone.  
  
"David? Are you there? It's me, Gordo!"

He was answered with static. After a few seconds had passed, he spoke into the microphone again.

"David! It's Gordo, tell me that you're there!"

More static.

"Maybe he's not there. Listen, Gordo, I'm getting really tired, maybe we can try it another time," she said, as she impatiently drummed her fingers on the table.

"No, we don't have much time, I don't know how long this radio will be able to reach the future," he replied. He then tried the radio again. "David, hello David! It's me Gordo, are you there? Please answe r me!"

This time, he finally received an answer.

"Gordo? Is that you? Yeah, it's me, David!"

Gordo was overcome with excitement. He quickly responded, "Yes, it's me! Man, it feels like it's been forever since I last talked to you! How are you?"  
  
"Well my head is still killing me from my fall on the floor, but that's not important right now. I want to know how things are going with you and Lizzie. How is she?"  
  
"Well, why don't you ask her yourself, David. Lizzie's right here with me."

"Wha --?" Said David. "No, this isn't good, she shouldn't know what's going to happen . . . ."  
  
"David, it's too late, I've already told her everything. I know you told me not to, but I thought I had to tell her, to make her understand."

"Oh, my god, no . . . ." replied David, clearly distraught.  
  
"Listen, everything's going to be alright. Here, I'm handing the microphone to her. Hold on a sec. . ."

Gordo pushed the microphone closer to her, and he motioned her to talk. She stared back at Gordo and then at the microphone, stunned by the chain of events, completely unsure of what was happening and what was about to happen. She thought, that voice , David's voice. . . it does sound really familiar. But, it can't be, it just can't . . . .

She gingerly took hold of the microphone, and with hesitation, finally made herself talk.  
  
"Umm . . . hi, David. It's me, Lizzie, Lizzie McGuire. We talked for a little bit yesterday. Do you, uh, remember me?"

As she finished her sentence, she turned and looked straight into Gordo's eyes as she waited anxiously to hear David's response . . . .


	20. Chapter Nineteen

A Second Chance – Chapter 19

DAVID'S POV -- In this chapter, I'm switching to adult David's POV, to see what he's been doing while Gordo and Lizzie have been talking on the couch. This Chapter begins when David last spoke with Gordo on the ham radio. It was right after David woke up from being unconscious on the floor, around 10:15 p.m.

& & & &&&& &&&&&& && &&&& &&& &&& &&& &&

As soon as the younger Gordo signed off, David got up from his chair and headed slowly to the bathroom. He was still feeling woozy and lightheaded from falling on the hard tile floor, trying in a futile attempt to avoid the wayward bat that had flown into his house.

I hope I don't have a concussion, he muttered. He slowly made it to the bathroom, flicked on the light switch, and hastily grabbed a bottle of aspirin from the medicine cabinet. He popped a handful of aspirin tablets and flung them into his mouth, swallowing them without the aid of any water. Ever since he was a child, he had the unusual habit of swallowing pills dry, a habit that drove his parents crazy, who always worried that he would choke on an errant pill.

Owww, hope the aspirins start kicking in soon, my head is seriously killing me . . .

He left the bathroom as groggily as he had entered it, and he gingerly made his way to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of sparkling mineral water, then plopped onto to the couch. He laid down, put his feet up on the armrest, took a swig of his water, then stared up at the ceiling, alone with just his thoughts and the beating sound of the rain outside. He wanted to do nothing except to lie down and wait for new memories to pop into his head as his younger-self attempted to change history, to save Lizzie McGuire's life for a second time.

So, he closed his eyes, and waited.

After a few moments had passed, he was still waiting. No new memories were flashing into his head. His mind remained a foggy, ignorant grey.

"Damn it! I can't see what's going on!"

The blow to his head from the floor had left him with a concussion that was preventing him from seeing any new memories. Occasionally some bits and pieces of new memories would flicker in his mind, but the images were all jumbled, blurry, dark, and distorted. Nor could he even hold onto the confusing images or make sense of them. He didn't have a clue what was happening with Gordo and Lizzie, the only thing he knew for certain was that Gordo was back inside the McGuire's house.

He checked his wristwatch; it read 10:30 p.m. Wonder what's happening with them?

He didn't know quite what to do with himself now. He felt completely helpless, as the fate of his best friend was being decided simultaneously in the present and the past.

He buried his face in his hands, the turbulent emotions of the past two days overwhelming his senses. He was so tired, yet he couldn't sleep, not now, not yet.

He was so full of hope earlier this evening, but now, feelings of hopelessness was raining down on him just as hard as the torrential rain outside was pelting and punishing the pavement. At this moment, he felt like the loneliest man in the world, a man caught between two different places, two different worlds. Right now, he felt cursed, as he now had memories about Lizzie dying twice, memorie about having to griever her death twice.

This is absolute torture . . . .

As he lifted his face out his hands, something on the far edge of the coffee table caught his eye. It was a silver double picture frame, and it was holding two 3 by 5 pictures.

Hmmm. . . I don't remember having a picture frame on the table before. He leaned over to the left and grabbed the frame. He then leaned over to his right and turned on the lamp on the side table so that he could have enough light to get a good look at the pictures.

As soon as he saw the two pictures, he let out a silent gasp. Oh my god . . . .

Those pictures . . . it . . . it can't be . . .

But, it was. The pictures were pictures of Lizzie McGuire taken after the night of the fateful crash.

The first picture was a group prom picture. Miranda and her date were in the picture. He was also in the picture, alone, without a date. And standing right next to him was a 17 year old Lizzie McGuire, who had her left arm around his shoulders, and her right arm wrapped around the shoulders of her date, Jimmy.

He let out a little laugh as he began to reminisce about his high school senior prom experience. He remembered that in his original lifetime, before the younger Gordo had changed history, Lizzie had died before she could attend her senior prom, and he ended up not going at all.

In the new lifetime, Lizzie didn't die on that fateful night twelve years ago, and she and Jimmy kept dating and entered into a serious relationship. They planned on going to the senior prom together, and they convinced Gordo that he should also come, even though he didn't have a date. He reluctantly agreed, and now, he was looking at a memento from that night.

He stared at the picture intently, as if he were trying to memorize every single detail in the picture. His "new" memories of going to the senior prom with Lizzie and Jimmy began to flash in his mind. Yet, even though he remembered having the picture taken, it was as if he were laying eyes on the picture for the very first time, laying eyes on a 17 year old Lizzie McGuire for the very first time.

God, she's so beautiful!

He then slowly turned his gaze at the second picture in the frame. He gasped again. It was a picture of his graduation from U.C. Berkeley. He was in graduation regalia, and a 22 year old Lizzie was standing right beside him, with her arms wrapped around him, giving him a kiss on his cheeks.

Tears started to stream down his cheeks as he kept muttering to himself, "oh my god she's so beautiful . . . "It was as if he was getting his first real glimpse of an adult Lizzie, and he was blown away by what he was seeing. She looked the same as he remembered her as a sixteen year old, except her hair was styled differently, making her less girlish and more sophisticated. She looked like a beautiful young woman.

That's just one year before she died, he thought wistfully.

A smile came over his face as he realized what was happening. He realized that he and Gordo had indeed altered the fabric of time and history itself, and that with his new memories, things around his house have changed to reflect the new history being created.

If I have these two pictures of Lizzie past the age of sixteen, then that means that . . . . I must have others!

With that sudden realization, he leaped up out of the couch and raced to the bookshelf next to the entertainment center. He grabbed all his photo albums and started to thumb through them. And quickly he had found them . . . his pictures of Lizzie after that fateful July 31st date.

He stumbled back to the couch, placed the photo album on the coffee table, and began to flip through it with enormous anticipation. It was as if he was about to get a glimpse of pure Heaven.

He saw more pictures of Lizzie at their senior prom, pictures of Lizzie when she visited him at Berkeley, and pictures of Lizzie and Jimmy at their wedding. He gasped when he gazed upon a picture of Lizzie decked out in her flowing white wedding gown. She's absolutely gorgeous . . . . and I should've been the one standing with her in that picture, not Jimmy . . . .

The last picture in the photo album was one with him and Lizzie, taken only two weeks before Jimmy killed her at the age of twenty-three. She was visiting her family in L.A., and as she always did when she was in L.A., she would visit Gordo. The picture was of the pair sitting at a café together.

David examined the picture intently, noticing a deep sadness in her eyes that her smile failed to cover up.

Why didn't I notice how sad she was on that day, he wondered? If I did, maybe I could've stopped Jimmy from killing her . . . .

With that thought, he glanced at his watch. It was 11:30 p.m. He had been immersed in his "new" pictures for the last hour, lost in newfound nostalgia and sentimentality.

He closed the album, and got up to go to the kitchen. He now realized just how hungry he was feeling, and felt like snacking on some dry cereal.

As he gingerly walked over to the kitchen, he smacked his head lightly, hoping to shake some of the cobwebs out of his head. He still couldn't see what was going on with Lizzie and Gordo, his headache and slight concussion still working feverishly to prevent new memories from getting on through to his consciousness.

Nope, still can't see. Damn, I hate being blind like this, not knowing what's happening. I hope to god everything's working out . . . .

He opened the cabinet door and grabbed a box of cereal. As he was closing the door, he suddenly was hit with a wave of nausea and dizziness. Oh crap . . . . He felt as if he was about to fall back into unconsciousness and fall onto the floor. No, can't fall again, musn't fall . . .

With all of his will, he managed to get himself to the kitchen table and sat down on one of the chairs. With his elbows propped up on the table, he held his head firmly to make sure it wasn't going to explode. His temples were throbbing relentlessly.

I just need a minute, and I'll be alright, come on, this'll pass . . . .

At that moment, David could hear noises coming from the other room. It was the ham radio. He could hear Gordo's voice ringing throughout the house.

"David! Are you there? It's me, Gordo! "

Wait on a minute, Gordo, I'll be right there, just hold on, he thought, as he kept holding on to himself, waiting for the dizzy spell to subside enough so that he could walk on over to the radio.

A few moments passed. Then, he heard Gordo's voice again calling out for him. "David! It's Gordo, tell me that you're there!"

Okay, come on, you need to talk to him, get up and get over there! He slowly, gingerly picked himself up, and trudged out of the kitchen and to the radio. Although it seemed like an eternity, he eventually made it to his destination, and he quickly grabbed the microphone and began to speak.

"Gordo? Is that you? Yeah, it's me, David!"

"Yes, it's me! Man, it feels like it's been forever since I last talked to you! How are you?"

"Well my head is still killing me from my fall on the floor, but that's not important right now. I want to know how things are going with you and Lizzie. How is she?"

"Well, why don't you ask her yourself, David. Lizzie's right here with me."

"Wha --?" Said David. "No, this isn't good, she shouldn't know what's going to happen . . . ."

"David, it's too late, I've already told her everything. I know you told me not to, but I thought I had to tell her, to make her understand."

"Oh, my god, no . . . ." replied David, completely distraught. He shouldn't have told her, that wasn't the plan . . . .

"Listen, everything's going to be alright. Here, I'm handing the microphone to her. Hold on a sec. . ."

David took an enormously deep breath as he waited for Lizzie to talk into the microphone. This is too strange, too surreal, this can't be happening, no I can't talk to her, not right now, not when everything's not set right yet, not now, please, I can't do this . . . .

Then, he heard her voice.

"Umm . . . hi, David. It's me, Lizzie, Lizzie McGuire. We talked for a little bit yesterday. Do you, uh, remember me?"

He couldn't respond, as a wave of intense and ragged emotions jolted his psyche, and he could feel his body going completely numb with shock. It was like hearing the voice of a beautiful ghost, and suddenly, he felt himself being transported back into time, back to time when Lizzie was still alive, back to a time when all was still right and beautiful with the world.

"Uh, David, hi, it's me, Lizzie, are you still there?"

Although he felt totally immobilized, he finally mustered up the courage to give a response. "Ye- yes, I'm still here. Uh – hi, Lizzie. How – how are you?"

"Well, to be honest, I'm not sure, it's been a very rough night for me. How – how about you? How are you doing tonight?" Lizzie asked, in a tentative, unsure voice.

He gathered his composure, and replied, "I've had a really rough night, too. But, it's been an amazing night, an absolutely miraculous night."

"Really? Miraculous? How so?"

"Because it's an absolute miracle right now that I'm talking with you, Lizzie," he said instantly, with a feeling of sheer wonder and awe in his voice.

"You mean, because, you, you know . . . you're David, I mean, I know that's your name, but I mean, you're my David, I mean, you know, uh, oh, ohmigosh, I don't know what I'm saying, I'm feeling soooo confused right now, Gordo," she said.

As soon as she called David "Gordo," she knew that she was, against her will, beginning to slowly believe in everything that Gordo had told her this night.

For David, it was as if he was hearing the most beautiful, wonderful sound in the entire universe – his best friend, the girl he loved, the girl who had died, twice in his lifetime, was once again talking to him and calling him by his endearing nickname.

"Yes, Lizzie, it is - me, it's me, Gordo," David replied, his voice steeped in strong emotions. "Do – do you believe me, do you understand what's been going on tonight?"

"H-honestly, David, I'm not sure, I'm so confused, and I tired and sleepy and sick and I just want to go to bed, but . . . but . . ."

"But you want to get to the truth."

With a deep sense of urgency and frantic-ness, Lizzie replied in her mile-a-minute voice. "Yes. You know, Gordo, I mean the Gordo who's with me now, he's been telling me all these crazy stories about how I was supposed to die tonight, and how I'm going to die in a few years when my boyfriend kills me, and it's really frightening me, and it just sounds so unreal, and even though it was so sweet of him to tell me tonight that he's in love with me, I still hate him for saying those awful, scary things to me, and now I'm talking to you, and I don't know who you really are, I don't know why I keep getting you confused with Gordo, because you can't be Gordo, you can't, you're David, Gordo's friend, and there's no way you can be Gordo all grown up, because that's science fiction stuff, it's not real, and ohhhh . . . I just wish this was all a bad dream and I'll wake up from it really soon!"

While she spoke, David could only think about the one thing she had said . . . that Gordo had told her that he was in love with her! Oh my god, he did it! He told her the truth! I told her the truth! After all these years, she knows, she finally knows how I feel about her!

As that realization sunk in, he could feel an enormous weight falling off of his shoulders, as if he had finally given release to a secret longing that had always wanted to be set free.

And now, he desperately wanted to know how she felt about all of this, how she felt about the fact that her best friend had been in love with her for as long as they had known each other. . . . he desperately wanted to know how she felt about him . . . .

He grabbed on tightly to the microphone, and he said, in a slow, measured voice, "Gordo, he told you, you know, he finally told you that he loved you?"

"Y-yes, yes he did," she replied, a little confused by the strange, curious tone in David's voice.

"Lizzie, what – what do you think about that?"

"Um, I'm not sure what you're asking. Think about what?"

"Gordo loves you. Do – do you love him? Do you – do you love me?" He finally asked it, the question he had been wanting to ask Lizzie for almost his entire life, but never had the courage to ask, and then, when Lizzie died, never had the opportunity to ask. He was overcome with sheer terror at the thought he might hear the wrong answer, that he might hear the answer that would absolutely break his heart and tear down his entire world.

Silently, calmly, he waited for Lizzie's answer.


	21. Chapter Twenty

A Second Chance – Chapter 21

Lizzie was completely stunned by David's question. She didn't know how to answer, she didn't know what to say.

As she held firmly onto the microphone, she slowly turned head towards Gordo, who was sitting right next to her. She looked straight into his eyes, to gauge his reaction, to get a sense of what he was thinking. Their eyes met for only an instant, as he quickly averted his eyes and dropped his head towards the floor.

He's so nervous, I can feel it, she thought. And I'm nervous, too . . . .

After an awkward moment of silence, he managed the courage to look up and return her gaze. He saw that she was looking at him with an odd look on her face – it was a look she often had during school when she was struggling with a difficult math problem. She looked deeply unsure of herself. But, he thought, what is she unsure about? Is she unsure about . . . him?

With that frightening thought, he nervously clasped his hands and started rubbing them together. He could hardly breathe, as his heart was caught up in his throat, and he anticipated with great fear and with urgent hope as to the nature of her response.

She gave Gordo one more quick glance, then turned to stare at the microphone. She felt torn and twisted inside, unsure of exactly whom she was talking to, unsure of everything she had ever known in her entire life. When she answered the question, she wondered, who would I be talking about, the boy sitting right next to her, or the man talking to her through the radio? It couldn't be both, that's impossible . . . . .

She didn't know what to say, but she knew she had to say something. She slowly put the microphone closer to her mouth, closed her eyes, and then softly whispered, "David, I don't even really know you, you know? So, I - I can't answer that question."

Upon hearing her answer, both David and Gordo closed their eyes in frustration. Her answer meant that she still didn't believe what they had been telling her about her future, about her tragic destiny.

"But, Lizzie, you do know me. It's me, Gordo, your best friend. I'm a little bit older than you right now, but it's still me. You believe me, don't you?" Asked David, with a clear sense of urgency in his voice.

She paused for a slight moment, gathered her self, and then said, "I really want to believe you, both of you, but you've got to understand where I'm coming from, do you know what you're trying to have me believe?" Her eyes glanced sideways towards the younger Gordo. He looked back at her with a look of deep disappointment and despair.

"Lizzie, I know it sounds crazy but –"

"David, please stop this, okay?" She said in a soft, solemn voice . "This is all so crazy and it's beginning to really upset me. I don't know who you really are, but if this is something both of you came up with to try and break up Jimmy and me, it's not going to work. All it's doing is making me feel really hurt, you know, that you and Gordo would go to such lengths to deceive me like this. It just hurts."

Silence.

David didn't know how to respond. The palpable emotions in Lizzie's voice took him by surprise, rendering him momentarily speechless.

No, this isn't going well at all. She doesn't believe me, she doesn't believe us. It's not working, she's going to go right back to Jimmy and we will have failed. And Lizzie will still be dead . . . .

With that numbing, awful thought, he felt his mind go blank and his body suddenly besieged with fear. He was paralyzed, unable to think, unable to conjure up an appropriate response. Instead, all he could say was, "I – I don't know what to say, Lizzie, I'm sorry."

Silent throughout the entire conversation, the younger Gordo suddenly felt the need to act. He could see that things were not going well, and he knew that something had to be done, now, to make Lizzie understand that they were telling her the truth. He leaned over towards her and gently grabbed the microphone from Lizzie. "Let me talk to David a for a minute."

"David?"

"Gordo?"  
  
"Yeah, it's me. Listen, David, we've got to do something to convince Lizzie we're telling the truth. "  
  
"I know, but what can we do? I'm all out of ideas right now, and god, I'm so tired."

"What about telling Lizzie some of the things that are going to happen in the next few years? You know, tell her something about her future."

"No good. I thought about that, but there's no way she's going to believe us right now, especially since those things won't happen for a while."

"Hey, why don't you tell her some things that you know about her that only you or I would know?"  
  
"No, I don't think that will work, either, because you could have told me those things earlier. You know Lizzie, and just how damn smart she is, she's not going to just accept a few personal details about her as proof that I'm who I say I am."

"Yeah, I guess that's right, one thing you and I know, Lizzie sure is one smart girl, the smartest girl I've ever known," replied Gordo.

"That's right. She's still the smartest, most amazing girl I've ever known my life. I have yet to meet anyone yet quite like her."

She found herself blushing as David and Gordo both showered her with compliments. And she found herself watching and listening in amazement as the two "Gordos" went back and forth with each other, astonished with the ease and fluidity of their communication. It was as if they were telekinetically linked, as if they knew each other inside and out.

Maybe, maybe they're telling the truth, she wondered. But no, that can't be, this is just impossible, I can't be talking to two Gordos right now, I just can't be . . . .

She got up from her chair, and started to walk around the room, trying to clear her head and to figure out what was really going on. She circled the small office twice and then walked up behind Gordo, as he kept talking into the ham radio, and stood right behind him.

As she continued to listen to the two Gordos trying to figure out a way to convince her that they were telling the truth, she suddenly began to feel a real sense of affection and tenderness for Gordo, and for David. She didn't really know why, but the earnestness and passion in their voices was touching her deeply. Whether or not they were telling the truth, what she was certain of was that they both seemed to care about her immensely . . . . both Gordo, and David. . . . .

Without thinking, she placed her right hand on Gordo's shoulder, and began to gently stroke it, with a soft, loving touch.

Gordo felt Lizzie's hand on his shoulder and he immediately began to relax, his muscles in his shoulder began to loosen up, and a sense of well-being began to take over his body. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then, he had it, he had an idea. He knew how he was going to make her believe . . . .

"David, I've got it! I've got an idea!"

"What? You do? What is it? Tell me!"

"Tell me, which ham radio are you using right now?"  
  
"Why do you want to know that?"  
  
"Just tell, David, and I'll tell you why it's important."

"Alright. It's the 1977 Green R2D2 model."

"Great! That's the model I'm using right now. It's the same ham radio, isn't it?"  
  
"Of course it is! It's one of a kind. Remember, we got that for five bucks at Mrs. Donner's yard sale."

"Yep, I remember. What a great deal, huh? Anyway, this ham radio is the answer! We're going to use the ham radio to convince Lizzie we're telling the truth!"

"What are you getting at, Gordo?"

"Hold on, I'll show you." He grabbed a sharpie pen from the desk and started to write something on the left side of the ham radio. "David, take a look on the left side of the radio. Do you see anything?"

Lizzie watched with great curiosity and fascination. What in the world is Gordo doing?

As Gordo kept writing on the radio with his pen, David responded, "Hey, I do see something. Ohmigod, something's being written on the radio as I'm sitting here. Hold on, I can make out the letters. The letters are a little faded, but I can see what they're spelling out. The words are spelling out to say . . . . hello, David!"

Lizzie peered over at the radio, looked at what Gordo had scratched onto the side. He had used his pen to write two words on the side of the radio. Those two word were "hello David."

She gasped. Ohmigosh, how did they just do that?

David spoke again. "That's brilliant Gordo. You just wrote that on the radio, didn't you?"  
  
"Yup!" He said triumphantly.

"Brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Anything you write on that radio means its also going to show up on my radio, since it's the same radio. Man, I'm so glad I kept this baby, I almost thought about getting rid of it last year!"

Gordo turned around to face Lizzie. Smiling broadly, he asked, "Now do you believe us?"  
  
"I – I don't know how you guys just did that, but, but, I'm still not sure, I'm so sorry . . . ." she said. No matter what sort of proof was given, she just couldn't get herself to believe what was going on. . . . because the truth was frightening to her. She didn't want to believe, because that would mean that the awful things Gordo had told her about her future would be true . . . .

"Lizzie, you've got to believe us! Tell me, how did David know that I had written "hello David" on the ham radio? There's no way he could have known unless he has that exact same radio with him, in the future!"

She shook her head and said, "No. There's got to be an explanation for all of this. Maybe you and David had agreed before hand that's what you would write. So he knew all along that you would write that. Right?"

"No, Lizzie, that's not it at all, I promise. I hadn't told him anything, you've got to believe me!"

"Oh, ohmigosh, I don't know what to believe, I'm so sorry, Gordo," she said in despair as she flopped back into her chair, exhausted and bewildered.

"Lizzie?" David said.

She took the microphone and responded. "Yes?"

"I have an idea. This is the last thing we'll try to convince you, and then we'll drop it, okay?"

"Oh-okay, I guess. What is it? What's your idea?"  
  
"Why don't you write something on the radio? You write something, and then I'll tell you what you've written. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, I guess. I think so."

"And if I tell you exactly what you've written, then you have to believe us, right? There's no way I could know unless I have the same radio with me, here, in the year 2015. Right?"

"Alright, David. I'll play along," she said.

What am I doing? She wondered. Why am I going along with this crazy scheme? I should just go to bed. But . . . but, just what if? What if everything they're saying is true?

Instead of grabbing the marker, she instead picked up a ballpoint pen and a 3 by 5 note card.

What is she doing, the younger Gordo wondered. He remained silent as he watched her start to scribble something on the note card.

Once she was done writing, she took the note card, folded it in half, grabbed some duct tape from the desk drawer, and then she began to tape the note card to the side of the radio, right next to the words "hello, David." She taped the note card on firmly with duct tape, making sure that it would stay on for at least the next decade. She looked at Gordo, and gave him a knowing look.

Even though no words were exchanged, he could sense that she was beginning to slowly open up to the reality of the situation, that she was finally beginning to believe . . . .

And so they both waited, to see if the note would make it to David, twelve years in the future . . . .

"Hey, I see something on the radio! It's tape, duct tape! Did you just do that? "  
  
Lizzie's eyes widened. Ohmigosh, it – it is happening, isn't it? It really is happening . . . .

Her voice barely a whisper, she said, "Yes, David. I taped a note to you. The note should be under the duct tape. Be careful getting it off."

"I see it. Okay, I'm taking the tape off right now, and I'll let you know what the note says in just a sec, okay?"  
  
"Okay," she said, as she took a big gulp of air. She suddenly became very nervous and anxious as she waited for David to read back to her the note she had written.

A few nervous moments passed. Gordo and Lizzie didn't look at each other as they waited for David to say something. But, despite his fears and tensions, he instinctively took his hand and gently placed it on Lizzie's hand and began to stroke it gently, trying to give her some comfort.

Without turning her head, she smiled, and she quietly allowed herself to be soothed by the warmth of his touch.

"Okay, I've got the note. Now, let me read it to you, okay?" Said David.

"Go ahead, we're listening."

"Alright, here's what it says. It says . . . oh my god . . . ."

"David, what's wrong? Are you okay?"  
  
"Uh—it's nothing, Lizzie. I'm fine. It's just so strange, and wonderful, to see your handwriting again. I can't make out what you've written yet, because I don't have my glasses on, but I can still make out your handwriting. It's so beautiful, and it's reminding me of just how much I've missed you, "he replied, his voice quivering with emotions.

"Oh . . . ."she responded, taken aback by David's words. He's so sweet, she thought, as she took one more step to believing, as she took one more step to embracing the truth.

After another brief moment of silence passed, David spoke again. "Okay, I've put on my glasses. Here's what the note says. "Dear David, if you're reading this letter, then it means everything you've said is true. I know I've been very skeptical tonight, but deep down, I know both of you were telling the truth. I know that you're David Gordon, my best friend in the whole world, because I could hear it in your voice, in your amazing, wonderful voice that I've known for almost all of my life. Even though my head was telling me no, my heart was telling me, yes, it is you. You're Gordo, my one and only Gordo.

With Love,

Lizzie McGuire

When David finished reading the note, she closed her eyes and began to weep as she kept thinking to herself, it is true, ohmigosh, it's all true . . . .

Deeply moved by the note that Lizzie had just written, the younger Gordo fought back tears as he continued to hold onto her hands, comforting her and trying to give her strength.

Still weeping, she opened her eyes, grabbed the microphone, and said to David, "Hello, Gordo."

"Lizzie . . . ." he responded. "Yes, it's me, Gordo!"

As she choked back her tears, she managed to let open a small, affectionate smile, and with a playful tenderness in her voice, said, "So, Gordo, tell me, what do you look like as a twenty-eight year old? Do you still have your same scruffy hair?"

She smiled directly at the younger Gordo as she waited for the older Gordo to respond.


	22. Chapter Twentyone

Author's Note: Here's the next chapter. The story is definitely finding its way towards the end. I think there may be two , possibly three chapters left. Please read and review! HM

A Second Chance – Chapter Twenty-two

As David listened to Lizzie ask about the scruffiness of his hair, his heart immediately skipped a beat as an enormous smile spread quickly across and over his face.

Oh my god, he whispered to himself, she believes . . . .

"She believes!"

He leaped out of his chair and started to pace furiously back and forth in front of his desk. His body was now surging with pure energy and adrenaline. He was exhilarated beyond belief, and all he wanted to do right now was to shout and yell "we did it" at the top of his lungs.

And that is exactly what he did.

He jumped, leaped, and sprinted around his living right while constantly chanting to himself, "We did it! We did it! Oh my god, we did it!"

He was feeling so incredibly, deliriously happy that he didn't even notice that he had knocked a banker's lamp off of the end table with his flailing arms, a lamp that his mother had given to him for one of his birthdays.

At this moment, it was as if he was walking on cloud nine. He could finally see the light at the end of the tunnel, and he began to feel his despair and helplessness start to fade away.

At this moment, he was beginning to hope once again, and that burgeoning sense of hope and renewal was making him extremely excited about his future.

For the past several years, ever since Lizzie died, he absolutely dreaded life. Each morning, he awoke, sad and weary, knowing his day would be filled with an inevitable and unbearable loneliness. He went through each day on automatic pilot, never fully engaged in the present. Each day was torture, because he longed for a past that he could not return to, a past in which Lizzie was still alive, a past in which Lizzie was still a beautiful, amazing, loving, and integral part of his life, an integral aspect of his very own being. Every day he dreaded having to live another day without her.

But, now, in this moment, he could sense that everything was about to change. He could sense a future full of joy, laughter, happiness, passion, love and liveliness.

He could sense a life with Lizzie, once again.

"David, are you still there?"

"Oh!" David yelped. Caught up in his visions of the future, he had forgotten about the people waiting for his answer on the other side of the radio, he had forgotten that he had been asked a question about the status of his hair.

She's waiting for me to respond! Calm yourself down, sit back in your chair, and answer the girl!

He dashed back to his chair, grabbed the microphone, and in an excited voice said, "Lizzie! Oh my god, you believe me, you believe us! That is so unbelievably incredible!"

David's excitable tone made her giggle softly. His unrestrained enthusiasm was infectious, and suddenly she began to feel and absorb his sense of excitement.

"Yes, I believe you Mr. David Gordon number one. And I believe you as well, Mr. David Gordon number two," she said, as she turned to the younger Gordo and acknowledged him with a flirtatious wink and a smile.

Gordo blushed slightly as he let out a half-annoyed grin. He wasn't sure that he liked being referred to as David Gordon number two.

She returned his ambivalent grin by blowing him a kiss, as if to tell Gordo that he was still her number one, then she turned back to the microphone to respond to David.

"Hey, you still haven't answered my question, David! So, is your hair still scruffy or what? This is important information, so you need to tell me the truth!"

David laughed, and said, "Well, if you must know the truth, I'm bald, I'm as bald as Bruce Willis."

"What?!?" Gordo shouted, utterly shocked and bewildered. David's answer hit him like a lightning bolt. "I'm twenty eight years old and I'm bald? Nooo, that can't be!" He shouted out loud as he grabbed his hair to make sure it was still all there.

"Really? Ohmigosh, are you really bald?" Lizzie asked, her eyes wide as saucers.

"Ha! Nah, I'm just kidding. If you must know, yes, I do still have my scruffy, curly hair. In fact, I think it's actually gotten scruffier since I've gotten older," replied David, with a playful, mischevious tone in his voice.

Gordo, immensely relieved upon hearing that news, grabbed the microphone and said,"Hey, man, that was not funny. You shouldn't kid around like that, not about the hair. Thank god I still have hair."

Lizzie laughed, as she stared at Gordo, trying hard to imagine what he would look like without any hair.

She tried, but she just couldn't do it.

She playfully roughed up Gordo's hair as she took the microphone back from him. "David, honestly, I'd still love you no matter what, but I'm really glad you still have your hair!"

Her response hit a chord, and suddenly, a wave of sadness and melancholy hit him like a tidal wave. She loves me, he whispered to himself. He had not heard those words for a long time, and again he was suddenly conscious of how lonely his life was without her, and just how much he missed her every single day since she's been gone.

Lost in his emotions, he was barely able to muster up a cogent respond. "Uh, thanks, Lizzie."

She noticed immediately the sudden, abrupt change in his voice. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, don't worry about me. It's just that everything that's happened the past few days is just starting to hit me. Oh my god, Lizzie, it's like all those dreams I've had these past years are coming true. I'm here, and talking with you, the best friend I've ever had, and the only girl that I ever . . . that I ever . . . "

He stopped talking, as he just couldn't get himself to finish his sentence, he just couldn't get himself to say what he really wanted to tell her . . . that she has been the only girl that he had ever loved in his entire twenty-eight years of existence.

"Ever . . . what?" She asked gently.

"Um, well, it's just that I've just missed you so, so very much. I've missed you . . . ." He said, his voice trailing off. He was overcome with grief, and he could not finish his sentence.

"Hey, I understand. And it's okay, everything 's going to be okay, trust me. I've got your back, David," she said, in a firm yet soft, soothing voice, hoping to give him some reassurance and comfort. "I really wish I could be with you and just give you a big hug."

Oh my god, I would love nothing more than to hold you in my arms again, he thought. It was unbearable, the distance separating him from her. Here he was, talking to Lizzie, hearing her beautiful voice, feeling her emotions over the microphone. Yet, he knew just how far away from him she really was.

"Me, too, Lizzie. There's nothing I'd like more right now," he replied softly.

After his response, he leaned back in his chair, tugged at his hair, and began to think about the recent course of events. When he realized that Lizzie finally believed what was really going, he had half-expected that everything would change on that account, and that they had accomplished their mission to save her life.

Yet, in his heart, he knew that nothing had changed yet. Because of his head injury, he still was unable to make out any new memories, but now, he could sense something different going on inside of him. The past few years of his life were suddenly going blank, as if they were being erased, but without any new memories to fill the void. It felt like everything was in a holding pattern. The old past was being changed, but as of yet, it was as if the future had yet to be written. Right now, things were in limbo, and David knew deep down that the next few moments would be crucial to determining Lizzie's destiny and his destiny.

He knew that right now, he had to talk to her directly about what had happened with her and Jimmy, and he had to convince her that she did not belong wit h Jimmy, and that instead, that she belonged with him .

With that thought, he took a deep breath, firmly grabbed the microphone firmly, and began to speak in a slow, deliberate voice. "Lizzie, I know it's going to be hard, but we need to talk about what happens to you and Jimmy in a few years."

She froze, as her mind was overwhelmed with feelings of fear and trepidation, as she began to recall what Gordo had told her about the two times she died in her brief lifetime.

Softly, she replied. "I – I don't want to believe it, David, I really don't. It can't be true, right?"

He felt a palpable sense of fear in her voice, and he responded quickly to reassure her and to tell her that everything would turn out alright. "Hey, listen Lizzie, everything's going to be okay. We've changed history once, we can do it again. I know it."

She did not respond. She instead turned her head towards Gordo, who had been sitting there silently listening to the two talk. He had a serious, solemn look on his face, as he were deep in thought. As she turned to him, he instinctively grabbed her hand again and started to caress it. He didn't know what to say right now, but he did know that she needed his strength and comfort.

She closed her eyes and allowed herself to be calmed by his soothing touch. With a surge of quiet confidence, she turned back to microphone and replied, "Do you – do you really think we can change what happens, um, you know, what happens to me? What, what should we do, so that it, you know it, doesn't happen . . . ."

She was having an extremely difficult talking about the reality of the situation. She wanted to know what she needed to do in order to save her life. Yet, she just could not get herself to say those words, to admit and acknowledge the truth of her impending death in just a few years.

As he thought on his response, he could feel his heart creeping up to his throat. This was the moment. He needed to tell her, he had to tell her, he wanted to tell her.

He knew that his younger version of himself had already told her the truth. But, now, it was up to him, it was up to him to muster up the courage and to tell her what he's been wanting to tell her for 28 years. He had thought that he would never get this chance again, but somehow, God, the Universe, Fate, Destiny, was giving him a second chance . . . a second chance to win the heart of the girl he loved, a second chance to transform his life into something wonderful and beautiful.

He closed his eyes and said, "Lizzie, it won't happen, you are not going to die. There's only one thing you need to do and everything will be just fine."

"What – what is it?"

"You and Jimmy aren't meant to be together. We're meant to be together, Lizzie, I just know it. I mean, you and the boy sitting next to you. He's been in love with you for as long as I can remember. He loves you so very much, and he'll do everything to protect you, he'll make sure nothing ever happens to you. He belongs together with you, and you belong together with him," he whispered.

For David, even though he knew that his younger version had already told her that he loved her, for him, it really felt like this was the first time he was opening up his heart to her. Yet, as he spoke, he was suddenly hit with a sense of deja vu. Even though his slight concussion prevented him from "remembering" what had just happened that night, deep in his heart he knew he had already expressed his love for her in the past. But, he also knew that Lizzie had never responded to her, she had not yet told him that she felt the same way about him. Now, after a lifetime of waiting, he was finally about to find out the truth.

TO BE CONTINUED


	23. Chapter Twenty three

Author's Note: Thanks for you all your reviews! A quick note to a few reviewers -- G 14, I look forward to your lengthy end of the story review! Abuhin, sure feel free to send me an email, and we can talk about your story idea. And finally, to all, please read and review! HM

Second Chance – Chapter 23

As she listened to David telling her that Gordo loved her and that they belonged together, she started to feel dazed, lightheaded and utterly overwhelmed. This is all just too much, she cried to herself.

It all felt so surreal and strange, because David was saying exactly the same thing Gordo had just said to her only a few moments ago in the living room.

Not only did they both speak the same words, they also spoke in the same, soft, gentle tone, and so if she had any lingering doubts about David's real identity, those doubts were now firmly erased from her mind.

She turned her head to look at the younger Gordo sitting next to her, and all she could see was the top of his head. He was staring intently at his shoes, unable to even look at Lizzie as David told Lizzie about his feelings for her.

Oh, Gordo, thought Lizzie, this must be so hard for him . . . .

It's hard for me, too, she whispered to herself. I don't want to hurt you, ever . . . .

With that thought, she bit her lips and then gathered her strength to respond.

"David, you know that I really and truly love you, right? I mean, you're my best friend in the entire world. I couldn't imagine my life without David Gordon in my life."

"You – you can't?" Replied David. His voice sounded as if he was shocked by the answer.

"No I can't. I mean, what would I do without my one and only Gordo? But, right now, I – I'm just not sure about . . . us. I mean, not about us, but about me and Gordo. I know you're Gordo, but, ohh . . . . You know what I mean, right? Ohmigosh, this is all so confusing," she said, as she dropped her forehead into her right palm with a weary sense of frustration.

Lizzie's ambivalent answer cut through the younger Gordo's heart like a knife. It was the one thing he did not want to hear, and the reason why he had been so fearful of ever telling her the truth about his feelings for her. But, he didn't want to let her on about his feelings of disappointment and rejection. He sat there, stone faced, and just continued to observe the interaction between Lizzie and David.

David, however, was undeterred by her confusion and uncertainty. He replied firmly, "Lizzie, I know it's all confusing, it's confusing for me, too. But, I know how things turn out for you, and I know what things just aren't meant to be, and what things are meant to be. We are meant to be together, not you and Jimmy."

She remained silent for a brief moment, and then, with some trepidation, quietly asked, "David, about all of that . . . you know, about all that happens to me, in the future . . . ."

"Yes?"

"I - I 'd like you to tell me more about what happens between me and Jimmy."

"Lizzie, I really don't think you need to hear that –"

She cut his sentence before he could keep protesting. "Please. David, I – I need to know."

He cringed and shook his head. He had very little desire to tell her about the circumstances surrounding her impending death. But, she asked, and he felt obligated to tell her the truth. "Well, oh – okay. Well, you and Jimmy, you guys dated all through high school and then you both went off to college together. He got a scholarship to play football. Eventually you guys married, but . . . ."

"But, what? Please tell me," she urged.

"But, Jimmy, he got injured during practice, really badly, and he couldn't play football anymore. He took it really hard. I know, because you would call and tell me about how bad he was doing and how it was tough for you as well."

He paused. "Do you still want me to go on?"

"Yes, please," she said, in a soft, solemn voice. She was so absolutely terrified, so frightened about seeing into the mirror of her own death. But, she felt like she had no choice but to directly confront her fate, to determine for herself what course of action she needed to take in order to change her future, in order to change her destiny.

He sighed, then reluctantly continued. "That injury devastated Jimmy. He started drinking and taking drugs, and he – he . . ." He paused, unsure he could say what he was about to say next. He thought about withholding the information from her, but he changed his mind. She needs to hear everything, he thought. "He – started cheating on you."

"Ohmigosh. He did?" She said, her voice quivering with shock and betrayal. Even though everything David was saying had not yet occurred, for Lizzie, it was as if she was being told that the sixteen year old Jimmy that she knew had just cheating on her. With everything that had gone on this night, she was having a terrible time telling the difference between the past, the present, and the future.

"Yes. I didn't know about it while it was happening, you never told me. You found out and you did tell Miranda. You told her that you were going to leave him if he didn't stop drinking and seeing other women. And that's what you were doing on that night it happened. You were packing your bags when Jimmy came home, completely drunk. He saw you packing, and he must have flipped out and lost it. He –"

"He- what, David? Go on, please!"

"He took his gun, shot you first, then shot himself." He was barely able to get the last word out. He then whispered, "I'm so sorry, Lizzie."

He was greeted with silence.

"Lizzie? Are – are you okay?"

"Yeah – yes, yes, I'm fine. I'm okay, really," she replied, unconvincingly.

The younger Gordo watched Lizzie talking with David, completely frozen, feeling totally detached from the situation. He could only stare and watch them talk, as he felt like as if he wasn't really in the room. He felt like a ghost, a fly on the wallpaper, as Lizzie and David were wrestling over the fate of both their lives.

And, he thought, it was so odd to hear his older version of himself talking about him and Lizzie, almost as if David was an older brother looking out for him.

Lizzie spoke again. "I – I think I understand now. I think I know what you and Gordo have been trying to tell me."

"You do?" Said both Gordos simultaneously.

"I – I think so. But, before I tell you what I'm feeling, I'd like to ask you a few things, about you, what you're like," She asked softly, inquisitively.

"You want to know more about me?" Asked David, puzzled. He wasn't sure what was on her mind.

"I – I do," she replied. "Tell me, are -- are you happy?" She asked, with an uneasy hesitation in her voice.

Huh? That's a strange question, he thought. "Am I happy? Well, I'm happy right now, talking with you and Gordo, but –"

"No, that's not what I meant. It's just that – it's your voice. You just sound so sad whenever you speak. I noticed it the first time I spoke with you the other day. That's the one difference between your voice and Gordo's voice. That's the only way I can tell your voices apart."

"My god, Lizzie, you know me so well. It's unbelievable, it's like you see right into my soul. You always have, you know," he said, amazed and moved by her uncanny ability to sense what was going on inside of him. "And that's why I've missed you so much, no one knows me like you did."

"But, David," she responded very softly.

As he was about to respond, he was greeted with a sudden jolt of static from his radio. Taken aback, he kept speaking into the microphone, to see if she was still connected with him. "Lizzie, are you still there? Answer me, please!"

For a few, interminable seconds, the only response he got was noisy static. Then finally, he heard her voice coming in through the speakers.

"David, we're still here. We got some static, too, we couldn't hear anything for awhile. Do you think we're losing the connection?"

"I don't know. I hope not. But, I'm not sure how long we'll be able to talk like this," he said.

He was speaking now with a quiet urgency in his voice. He was now deeply concerned that they might lose the connection at any moment.  
  
We're running out of time, he thought . . . .

She replied, "Okay, well let me just say what's on mind. David, from everything you've told me, it sounds like I'm the one who's making you unhappy."

He was absolutely floored by her answer. What in the world is she talking about?

"What? Lizzie, you can't be serious! You're the only thing in my life that makes my life worth living. You must know that!"

"I – I think that's the problem, David. Ca-can't you see that? I haven't been in your life for a long time, right?" She whispered, hoping that he would understand what she was trying to tell him.

"I – I don't understand," He responded, confused beyond belief. His radio was hit with another shot of static as soon as he had finished his sentence.

"You're sad, because of . . . me, aren't you?" She quietly asked.

"No, no, not because of you, but because I've lost you, that's why it's been so hard for me. Don't you see? And you being alive, that's going to make everything right again, I know it!"

"But, ohmigosh, David, this is all so scary, the idea of dying, but what hurts me and scares me the most is not what's going to happen to me, but what's happening with you."

"Wh—what do you mean?"

"I mean, you're so dear to me and I care so much about you, and whatever happens to me, I want you to live your life to the fullest and for you to love it and enjoy it, because you're such a good person! You know? You are so amazing, special, and beautiful, and I hate it so much that I'm the one who's causing you so much sadness, so much grief," she said, as tears started to flow down her cheeks.

"Lizzie, no, oh my god no, it's not your fault, it's –"

Before he could finish his sentence, his ham radio was hit with even more static, and his house was wracked with the sound of crackling thunder. The storm hadn't relented yet. In fact, it was actually gaining in strength and ferocity, as if it was just starting to unleash its full fury and wrath upon the earth.

"Ohmigosh!" Cried Lizzie. At the same moment the thunder crashed around David's home, thunder also boomed over the McGuire's residence, shaking and rattling the house with a vengeance.

"Are you okay?" He asked, deeply concerned.

"I- I'm fine. It's just a little thunder. And Gordo's here to protect me." She gathered her composure and then spoke again. "I'm sorry David, but I do feel awful, I don't know why, it just hurts so much to think of you so sad like this for such a long time."

"Oh god, Lizzie, it's been so hard to let go of you, because I know we were meant to be together. And now, don't you see, all of this that's happening right now, it's an absolute miracle, God's giving you a second chance, he's giving us a second chance to be together," he said.

"But . . . how . . . how do you know? How do you know for sure we're meant to be together?"

He listened to her question with deep puzzlement. She still isn't sure, after all that I've told her about what happened to her and Jimmy? He took a deep breath to calm his rattled nerves and then answered.

"I know, because I know what happens to you. You were never meant to end up with Jimmy, because there's no way you deserved to die so young. You have to trust me, it all makes sense, you belong with me, not with Jimmy."

"But, that's what I don't understand. If I break up with Jimmy, that doesn't mean we're supposed to be together. It just meant I wasn't supposed to be with him. So, I just want to know, David, how can you be so sure, about us?"

David sat back in his chair, stunned by Lizzie's question. He was stunned, because she was absolutely right. For all this time, he had assumed that if Lizzie didn't end up with Jimmy, that meant that she would live and that she would end up with him. But, he realized that was what he was hoping for, that was not what was guaranteed to occur.

Shaken, he forced himself to respond. "But – but don't you want to be together? Don't you want to be with me?"

"I – I don't know, right now," she replied hesitantly. "I think, oh, it might be wonderful being with you, I mean, these past few hours with Gordo have just been so magical and special and I'll never forget this night, ever. But, it really scares me when you say you know for sure that we belong together. I don't why, it just does."

"Wh- why? Why does it scare you so much? I'm only saying it because I love you so much." He replied, confused beyond comprehension.

She paused, closed her eyes, then turned once more to Gordo. She looked deeply into his concerned eyes, and then she knew. She knew what was bothering her about what David was saying.

"Ohmigosh, I know why I'm scared. It's because right now, I really need to believe that the future is totally wide open and that anything can happen, to me, to you, to us. I need to believe that nothing is certain, that everything can change. Does that make sense, David?" She asked.

It was finally starting to make sense for him. "I – I . . . " But, at this moment, he couldn't talk. He was speechless.

He grabbed his head with his left arm, as his mind was swirling and his temples were now throbbing fiercely. It felt like the storm outside had now traveled inside his head and was wreaking havoc with his mind and soul.

She's right, he kept thinking. I don't know what's going to happen with us, even if she does live. I really don't know if we're meant to be. Destiny doesn't control us, we control our own destiny. Nothing is ever certain . . . .

And, if at this very critical moment, the future is completely wide open, for both him and for Lizzie, he knew that meant that even if she breaks up with Jimmy, it would not necessarily mean that he would get together with Lizzie.

As that stunning realization came crashing down on him like a ton of bricks, he suddenly felt completely depleted and energy-less. All the life was being sucked out of him, and he never felt so defeated and lost in his life. He was still overjoyed for Lizzie, that she now had a chance to live again. But, for himself, he was deeply saddened by the possibility that he just might not end up with the only girl he had ever loved in his life.

As he was finally ready to respond to Lizzie, his house was rattled with another thunderous boom and his radio was suddenly jolted with loud and noisy static. He kept waiting for the static to end, but it kept going. He jiggled with the frequency and hit the radio, but to no avail. He kept hearing a steady stream of angry static coming from the radio.

"Lizzie! Are you there? Lizzie! Can you hear me?"

His urgent cries were just greeted by unrelenting static.

"Lizzie! Answer me, please!"

Again, no answer. More static came spewing from his radio.

"Lizzie? Are you there?" He said, in a quiet, defeated voice.

Again, the only response was static. There was no one on the other line.

Lizzie was gone.

TO BE CONTINUED 


	24. Chapter Twenty Four

A Second Chance -- Chapter 24

Author's notes: Thanks for your reviews! Here's the next chapter, from David's POV. There should be at least two more chapters after this one, but we're definitely heading towards the final resolution of the story.

DAVID'S POV

The static from the ham radio was deafening. Yet, he continued to sit there, in his chair, in stunned silence, unable to muster the energy or strength to turn the radio off.

He knew that he had lost the connection with the past, but, in the deep recesses of his heart, he was desperately clinging onto the hope that some how, some way, he would be able to hear Lizzie's voice over the radio once again.

"Lizzie . . . ." He whispered into the darkness, "come back . . . ."

He continued to wait as the bitter static kept singing its angry song to him. He stared intently at the radio, trying by sheer will to transform the chaotic noise into the sound of her voice.

And yet, still nothing, except for the static.

Finally, after twenty-minutes had passed, he finally conceded to the reality of the situation.

She's gone, he bitterly concluded. Oh my god . . . I've lost her, again . . . .

With a deep sigh of resignation, he turned the ham radio volume down and drowned out the static with empty silence. He turned it down, but he kept the radio on, just in case, by miracle's chance, he might hear her lyrical voice calling out to him again.

He then slowly got up from his chair and dragged himself to his couch. He sat down dejectedly, propped his elbows up on his knees, and buried his face in his palms.

He then sat there, frozen in that position.

While his body was immobile, his mind was frantically chasing the past, as he replayed over and over in his mind the last conversation he had with Lizzie.

And he came to a startling conclusion. She . . . she's right, he thought, I do need to let go of her . . . .

He didn't want to hear it, but she had been telling him that he needed to move on with his life, to stop grieving her death, to let her go, to stop living in the past and to start living in the present.

Oh my god, it's like I've been sleepwalking through the last twelve years of my life. I haven't been truly alive all these years . . . that's what Lizzie was trying to tell me . . . .

His mind then started wandering to thought about his current girlfriend, Allison, who was away for the weekend. Even though they were technically still together, he knew that the end for their relationship was near. He had planned to break up with her when she returned from her trip. That is, if she didn't break up with him first.

Their troubles started almost as soon as their relationship began. Even when they first started dating, he couldn't help but talk to Allison about Lizzie and what she meant to him. At first, she was understanding and empathetic, but as, the relationship wore on and he continued to talk and think about her, Allison became more and more frustrated with David and his inability to let go of the past.

She constantly told him she was jealous of Lizzie, because she knew that his mind and heart was still firmly wrapped around his undying love for Lizzie, and so he was never fully present with her, he was never fully committed to her.

She felt like part of a bizarre love triangle, she had told him over the phone before she left for her trip.

And he knew Allison was right, and that she deserved much better from him. But, he just couldn't give her the love she wanted and needed, because even though she was a beautiful, intelligent, and loving woman, the problem was, she just wasn't Lizzie.

But, now, he was deeply confused, because it was Lizzie herself who told him that he needed to wake up from his walking slumber and that he needed to embrace life in the present moment instead of living in the illusionary fantasies of the past.

But, that is what he didn't fully understand. Why would God or the Universe tamper and alter time and space in order to put him through such a cruel, twisted, cosmic joke? Why would the Universe bring back Lizzie to him, in order to just take her away from him once again? Had everything he had done these past few days all been for naught? Would he wake up the next morning only to find out that she was still dead, and that he would be cursed forever with the knowledge of having lived through her death twice?

Shaking with anger, he leaped off of his couch and headed to the back porch. He desperately needed some air.

He reached the back door, and he gingerly turned the knob and flung the door open. He was met with a gust of cold air and sharp sprinkles of rain.

The impact of the rain hitting the porch floor was deafening. It sounded like a million typewriters clicking and clattering all at once.

He stood in the doorway, not quite outside, yet not fully inside.

He stood there, and continued to reassess his life and all the events of the few days, and his mind wandered back to Lizzie and Gordo, back to twelve years ago, and he wondered what was going on with them.

Again, he tried to concentrate, to see if he could make out any more new memories, but his head was still cloudy and murky, and he could only see distorted, jumbled pictures. He thought he could still see them in her father's office, trying to get the radio to work again. But, he wasn't sure if that was really a new memory, or whether it was just a fantasy, a figment of his imagination.

He breathed in the cool air, then carefully backed himself up and closed the door. The quiet warmth of his house felt soothing after having being immersed in the chilly weather outside.

He looked outside the window at the falling rain, and then, suddenly, for a brief moment, he felt a sense of . . . elation.

It was a strange feeling, and it quickly disappeared, but he definitely felt it. For that split-second, he felt as if everything would turn out alright and that everything would eventually make sense.

He lips curled into a subtle smile, as hope and optimism began planting their seeds inside of him.

He didn't know why he felt that sense of elation, that sense of promise and hope. It didn't make sense, because right now, he did not know how anything was going to turn out. He didn't know whether Lizzie would live or die, he didn't know whether he would get together with her or not.

The only thing he was certain about was that he couldn't be certain about anything. Everything was still in limbo, in transition, awaiting something to happen to finally set the proper course of events in motion.

And he wondered, perhaps that was it. Perhaps he was finding freedom and liberation in not knowing what was going to happen next.

There was something exciting about the realization that the future, his life, was totally wide open and it was up to him to make it into the life he wanted to live.

Maybe, just maybe, no matter what happens, life is something worth living for, he thought to himself as he slowly walked back into his living room.

As he passed by his desk, his eyes caught a glance of the note that Lizzie had written to him, tonight, twelve years ago. He picked it up, and began to read it once more.

His eyes teared up as he re-read her loving, heartfelt words.

_Dear David, if you're reading this letter, then it means everything you've said is true. I know I've been very skeptical tonight, but deep down, I knew both of you were telling the truth. I knew that you're David Gordon, my best friend in the whole world, because I could hear it in your voice, in your amazing, wonderful voice that I've known for almost all of my life. Even though my head was telling me no, my heart was telling me, yes, it is you. You're Gordo, my one and only Gordo._

With Love,

Lizzie McGuire

He clutched the letter to his chest, and silently thanked the Universe for giving him one more moment with her. Even if he were to never see her alive again, he understood the utter beauty and grace of all that was happening on this night, and he knew that things in life would be different from now on.

He was ready to begin his life again.

TO BE CONTINUED . . . .


	25. Chapter Twenty Five

A Second Chance Chapter 25

_This Chapter takes place from Lizzie's and Gordo's POV. It takes place right when they lose contact with David on the ham radio. This chapter is only half of the chapter I had originally planned to write, but I decided to post what I've written so that you all will have something to read! Think of it as a transition chapter to the climax of the story. Anyway, read and review!_ HM

**Lizzie's and Gordo's POV**

As she waited for David to respond, suddenly, the ham radio began spewing out loud, caustic static.

Startled, she jumped back in her seat, then quickly covered her ears, trying to block out the noise. She gave a worried look to Gordo, wondering if he knew what was happening with the radio.

He returned her gaze with a stern grimace, a look that told her that he had no idea what was going on. All he knew right now was that the static from the radio was unbelievably loud, and so he reached out with his right hand and turned down the volume.

As the noise quickly died down to a manageable level, she breathed a sigh of relief, dropped her hands from her hears, then grabbed the microphone.

"David? Are you there?" She asked. "If you're there, answer me!"

There was no answer, as static continued to pour out of the ham radio.

She anxiously turned to Gordo again. "Do you know what's wrong with the radio?"

"Let me try tinkering with it. I'm hoping we've just lost his frequency temporarily, because of the weather ."  
  
He got up from his chair, put his elbows on the desk, and then began twisting a few knobs and adjusted some of the frequency settings.

Nothing worked. The room continued to fill up with static.

He kept adjusting the settings, but he had a slow, sinking feeling that, in all likelihood, they had lost the connection with David.

"David's gone," he murmured, as he slumped back in his chair, resigned, lost and dejected.

He felt intensely depressed, not just because they had lost the connection, but, more so, because of everything he had just heard Lizzie say to David.

The entire time they were talking, he sat back, silent for the most part, just trying to make sense of what was going on. With each word spoken, he desperately hoped that he would hear from her the words he longed to hear – that she was in love with him and that she too realized that they were meant to be together.

But, when she told David that she was unsure of everything and was unsure about her feelings for Gordo, what she said hit him and hurt him hard and deep.

In truth, though, Lizzie had not rejected out of hand the idea of being together with Gordo. However, in his sensitive mind and heart, what he heard her say was that she didn't want to be with him.

She . . . she doesn't love me, does she? He kept thinking to himself, over and over. I – I knew it, I just knew it was too good to be true. Face it, Gordo, you're just not good enough for her, she deserves someone better than you . . . .

Immersed in his painful feelings of rejection and humiliation, he never felt so embarrassed and ashamed in his life. And right now, he felt too embarassed to even make eye contact with her anymore.

He had been so scared for all of these years of telling her how he felt, because he didn't know if he could stand the thought of rejection, the thought of having his love unreciprocated.

And now, in his mind, his worst fears had been realized. She didn't want to be with him, he thought, and that belief was turning him inside and out, making him want to crawl out of his skin and disappear forever into the obscure darkness of night.

What was worse, now he didn't even have David's help to help him through his inner crisis. Right now more than ever he felt like he could use the guidance and counsel of his older, wiser, self, and he began to feel angry at the way he had abandoned him in such a time of need . . . .

As the radio kept bombarding them with static, they just sat there, at the desk, quiet, helpless, waiting for something to happen, hoping that they would hear David's voice once again over the radio.

Their silent prayers went unanswered.

After what seemed like an eternity, she finally broke the uneasy silence. "Gordo, is he – gone? Did we lose him?"

"I – I'm not sure. I—think so. I mean, it was such a freak thing to be able to talk to him in the first place, I'm not sure we'll be able to get the connection back," he replied.

Silence.

"What should we do now?" She asked, with deep concern etched on her face.

He didn't answer. He turned away to look mindlessly at some paintings on the wall. He didn't know what to do or say to her.

She gently placed her hand on his leg, and asked, "Gordo, is – everything okay?"

"Uh- yeah, I'm fine. Totally," he replied. "I'm just tired, you know? Man, it's been a long night. But, anyway, I think we should turn off the radio. We can try him again in a little while, but I really don't think we'll get him back."

"Oh—okay," she said, taken a little aback by the hollow tone in his voice. There's something definitely wrong with him, she thought.

She wanted to reach over and give him a reassuring hug, but, she wasn't sure that was something he wanted right now.

Instead, she just mindlessly stared at the ham radio and listened to the rain as it continued to relentlessly batter the house.

The sound of the rhythmic, beating rain was hypnotic, and she felt herself falling into a slight trance-like state. She was starting to feel more and more relaxed, as her anxiety and worry started to melt away, at least for the moment.

She was still thinking about David, and wondering how he was doing. As she continued to gaze intently at the ham radio, she tried to imagine what he looked like . . . what Gordo looked like all grown up.

I . . . miss him. I miss David . . .

She then turned to Gordo, who looked back at her with a sad, introspective face.

But, he's not really gone, he's right here, with me. David is Gordo, Gordo is David, remember?

With that reassuring thought, she closed her eyes and let herself smile. Then, she opened her eyes and gazed tenderly at Gordo.

He could feel her inquisitive gaze, and he tried desperately to avoid looking straight into her eyes. But, he couldn't help himself, as his eyes inexorably turned to meet her eyes. I just can't take my eyes off you, Lizzie McGuire, he thought to himself, no matter how hard I try.

She could sense that his emotional walls were slowly coming down. Good! My Gordo's coming back to me, she thought.

Feeling great tenderness toward him, she started to reach with her hand to give his hand a loving caress. But, out of the blue, she was suddenly hit with an intense feeling of claustrophobia.

Oh!! she cried silently. She sat up in her chair and started to gently rub her neck, as it felt like the air around her was choking her. Ohmigosh, we've been sitting in this office for so long, I need to get some air . . .

She gently pulled herself up from her chair and started to walk out the door. "Gordo, I'm going to go out on the porch and get some air, it's so stuffy and hot in here."

"Oh, okay. Sure, Lizzie," he replied as he sat in his chair, hit with another wave of dejection. He assumed that she wanted to be on the porch by herself, away from him.

She was almost out the door when she stopped, turned around, and looked to see Gordo still sitting in the chair. His head was hanging and his hands were nervously preoccupied with a paper clip.

"Gordo?" She said, in a soft, tentative voice.

"Hmm?"

"Are – aren't you going to come outside with me?"

He looked at her, puzzled. "Oh . . . . I – I thought you wanted to go out by yourself," he said. "Do you – do you really want me to come out there with you?"

"Of course," she whispered forcefully. "Why wouldn't I want you with me?"

"Oh, uh, no reason, I just thought, you know, you might want to be by yourself right now," he replied.

She looked at him with a mix of empathy and sadness. Oh, poor Gordo, she thought to herself, there is something wrong with him. It must have been some of the things I said to David . . . .

She nervously played with her hair, took a contemplative sigh, then slowly walked over to where he was sitting. She gently placed her right hand on his left shoulder, then extended her left hand towards him.

"C'mon, Gordo, come outside with me . . . I want to talk to you about a few things, okay? There are some things I want to tell you, to explain to you, and some things I need you to help me understand," she said in a soft, soothing, voice.

He looked up at her over his left shoulder, smiled softly, then reached out to hold her extended hand.

She smiled back at him, then gently pulled him up out of his chair. They were now standing face to face, only a few inches separating them, and they both stood there, silently, just gazing into each other's eyes.

They exchanged no words, yet standing there, together, holding each other's hands, they spoke volumes to each other.

They both knew, that in the next few moments, something significant was going to occur between them. In the next few moments, they knew that they would be mapping out their future and shaping the very course of their lives.

His hands and legs started to tremble as he slowly began to understand the magnitude of the present moment.

She could feel his sense of unease and trepidation, and so she started to softly stroke his hand with her thumb as she gave him a reassuring kiss on his cheeks, as if to tell him that everything would turn out alright, that everything in the end would make sense.

Then, finally, she broke their silent conversation as she whispered into his ears, "C'mon, Gordo, let's go outside, okay? I want you to come outside with me."

"Okay," he nodded and then two, still holding hands, began their slow, quiet, and peaceful walk to the back porch.

TO BE CONTINUED 


	26. Chapter Twenty Six

**A Second Chance -- Chapter 26**

_Author's Note: Here's the next chapter. Again, it's actually half of the chapter that I meant to write, but it just started to get really long, so I thought I'd post what I've writen and post the other part as a new chapter. Anyway, please read and review! This chapter is a critical moment for Lizzie and Gordo, and I'd love to hear what you think._

They walked out the office door and towards the door to the back porch.

As they glided through the living room, she stopped and instructed Gordo to pick up the blanket off of the couch.

He nodded, then, he reluctantly let go of her hand and walked over to the couch. He grabbed the reddish-brown wool blanket, flung it over his shoulder, then he sauntered back towards her.

She reached out with her right hand, beckoning him to grab hold of it once more.

He did, and once he did he instantly felt a sense of safety, security, and love. He didn't know how she did it, but, whatever she was doing, there was _magic_ in the touch of her hands.

She led him to the back of the living room. She grabbed the doorknob, slowly twisted it, and then cautiously and deliberately opened the door.

A burst of cool, misty air quickly greeted her. "Ohhh!!" She gasped. "The air feels so good!"

She inhaled deeply, feeling energized by the fresh air. She scanned the back porch to see the rain still diligently making its way from the skies down to the earth.

She peered up towards the porch awning, which was working feverishly to prevent her from being completely drenched and soaked. She closed her eyes and listened to the steady, constant beat of rain pellets striking the awning and then slipping and sliding down and over the awning's edge.

Her dad had installed the awning earlier this summer, primarily to shield the McGuires and their guests from the piercing, burning rays of the California sun. But, tonight, it was doing a wonderful job as sturdy shelter from the storm raging all around them.

"C'mon, let's sit outside for a little bit," she said to Gordo. She motioned with her hand over to the pieces of lawn furniture that were sitting and relaxing underneath the awning. She was drawn in particular to the wicker loveseat summoning them to come and sit down on its soft, pliable seats.

She led him to the loveseat and then quickly took a seat on the left side. Gordo grabbed the blanket off his shoulder, unfolded it, and then in gentlemanly fashion, he laid it across her shoulders and her lap, making sure she was warm and secure. He then sat down on the right side of the loveseat, a few inches away from her. Even though he wasn't conscious of it, he had sat down in a way so that he wouldn't come in physical contact with her.

"Thanks, Gordo," she said softly. She looked at him, peered out at the rainy night, then said, "Here, let me give you some of my blanket, don't want you to get a chill tonight."

She pulled and tugged on her blanket and spread it out over his lap. He took it pulled it up and over his shoulders. He smiled at her as he started to absorb the warmth from the blanket.

"You're welcome," she said in response to his silent thank you, and then she smiled back.

The two then remained quiet and watched, in a comfortable silence, the rain continuing to march its way down from the skies.

Gazing at the rain, she was reminded of the fight that they had just a few hours ago, when he chased after her as she tried to get into her car and drive off into the night. She remembered that, as she was trying to wrestle away from him, she kept wondering why he was acting so crazily and trying so desperately to stop her from taking a little car ride.

Now, after all that had happened, after having talked with a version of Gordo living in the future, she now knew why he behaved so erratically and strangely. She now understood why he had that look on his face that she saw through her car window – a look of sheer fear and terror. He had been afraid for her very life.

He -- he was trying to save my life, she thought. He's still trying to save my life.

She turned her head and gazed at his profile. Oh, Gordo, you've been so strong and courageous tonight . . . .

With feelings of tenderness and empathy surging within her, she scooted her body closer to him and then she slowly laid her neck down on his shoulders. She wanted to be physically close to him, as she was feeling a strong emotional connection with him.

She still wasn't sure about her feelings, she still wasn't sure she could see him as a something more than a friend, but, reflecting on all that had happened tonight, she could feel in her soul that their destinies and fates were closely intertwined, almost as if his destiny was hers, and her destiny was his.

She was just so glad that she was with her best friend, sharing a blanket and sharing companionship on a beautiful, miraculous and odd rainy night.

He smiled as her head rested on his left shoulder. He was in love with this moment, and he wished time could stand still and let him enjoy for as long as he wanted the simple pleasure of being together so intimately with the girl of his dreams.

But, as much as he wanted to just immerse himself in the moment, his mind wandered towards thoughts of the future, of her future, of his future.

He didn't want to break the serene silence, but, he felt as if he had no choice. He had to know for sure.

"Lizzie?"

"Hmm . . . yes, Gordo?" She replied in a sweet, sleepy voice.

"Do you remember some of the things you said when you were talking to David?"

"Yes. How can I forget? Ohmigosh, it was so amazing and surreal to be talking to you in the future. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget what happened tonight," she replied.

He paused. Then, he said, "Do you remember what you said about being scared, you know, of being together . . . with me?"

He could feel her body stiffen and tense up. The soft, lazy mood was broken, and they both knew that the time had come to directly confront their future.

She lifted her head off his shoulders and repositioned her body so that she was now directly facing him. He turned to see her looking intently at him.

"Gordo, ohh . . . that's not what I said," she said in a quiet voice. "I'm not scared of being with you, not at all. The idea of being with you makes me smile, whenever I think about it. But, what scares me is the thought that we're meant to be together."

He looked at her nervously, then replied, "I – I don't get it. Why – why does that scare you so much?"

He had heard the answer she had given to David, but he still didn't really understand. All he kept thinking was that this was her way of telling him that she didn't love him.

She took a deep breath, concentrated, put her hand on his shoulders, then said, "It's because of everything I learned tonight, about my future. Ohmigosh, it's so scary knowing that I'm meant to die in a few years, it's so scary knowing that I was meant to die tonight."

"I know. I'm so sorry."

"So, right now, do you see, I'm just so scared of the thought of anything that's meant to happen, even if it's something wonderful. You know? I need to believe that the future isn't set yet, that I'm not meant to die, that everything can change, with you and me, even with me and Jimmy."

Her mention of Jimmy perked up his ears. What? He thought. Is she still thinking about going out with him, even after what David had told her about what he will do to her in a few years?

He asked, "Jimmy? Lizzie, you aren't thinking of still going out with him, are you? Even after what David had said?"

"I – I don't know, Gordo . . . I – I just don't want to break up with him, just because of what's meant to happen between him and me. I mean, it doesn't have to end up that way, right? Knowing what I know, maybe I could change things and make sure he doesn't become so depressed, and maybe, I could save his life and mine, you know, just like the way you and David saved my life tonight."

Her words sent sharp, painful shivers up his spine. I can't believe it . . . she – she still wants to be with him, he thought. With him, and not with me . . . .

She saw the glazed, hurt look in his eyes and she understood immediately how Gordo had interpreted her words. Oh, no, that's not what I meant . . . .

"Are you okay, Gordo?" She asked. "Please don't misunderstand what I'm saying. I'm not saying I want to keep going out with Jimmy, I –"

He cut her off before she could finish her sentence. "Then, what do you mean?"

"I – I don't know," she replied, in a tentative voice. "Ohmigosh, I really don't know how I feel about anything or anyone right now. Everything is all so blurred up, and I don't know what's past or present or future, it's all just mixed up. I just want everything to be . . . normal," she said, then she broke down, sobbing, with her face buried in her hands.

She regained her composure, wiped away the tears from her eyes, then said, in a soft yet firm voice, "I'll be honest, right now, I'm just not sure about us, everything between us is happening so fast. But, what I am sure about is I don't like the idea of us being meant together. I don't believe it, I don't want to believe it, not right now."

His head was swimming. His worst fears were coming true.

"You – you don't think we're meant to be together?"

She replied, "No, I don't. I mean, Gordo, look how young we are . . . . There's so much more of life out there waiting for us, you know?"

He nodded in acknowledgement.

She continued. "And so many things could happen in the future. I mean, even if we started going out, that doesn't mean we'll stay together, you know? What if we move to different schools? What if we go away to different colleges? What if you find some girl you find who's prettier, smarter, and funnier than me and you break up with me and marry her? So many things can happen – I don't want to be married with children already, when I'm just sixteen. I want our future to be wide open, I don't want it to be written in stone. Now, more than ever. Can you understand that, Gordo?"

He didn't understand. All he could hear was her telling him that she couldn't see a life together with him. "You . . . don't want to be with me . . . ." he said, in a barely audible, monotone, defeated voice.

"No – I – I . . ." Confused, stunned, unable to respond coherently, she lost her composure and began to cry again. She took her blanket and buried herself underneath it, hiding from Gordo, hiding from herself, sobbing, feeling awful for hurting her best friend's feelings, feeling awful because it felt like she was about to lose someone she cherished more than anyone else in the world.

He noticed that Lizzie was extremely distraught, and he knew she needed some comforting, he knew she needed to know that he was still there for her.

But, he couldn't do anything. He couldn't speak, he couldn't move. He was frozen inside, imprisoned by what she had said. Or, more accurately, he was imprisoned by what he _thought_ she had said.

For Gordo, her words kept repeating themselves over and over in his head, taunting him and haunting him. She doesn't love me, she doesn't want to be with me . . . . Listening to her words, he was hit with an overwhelming sense of dread. He was scared, scared of the future.

Because as she spoke, suddenly it became clear to him that his future would be one without Lizzie. Just like she said, after high school, they would probably part ways, go off to different colleges, she would meet someone, get married, and leave him and forget about him. To her, he would just be a nice memory from the past, a childhood friend that she would reminisce about once in a blue moon.

But, for him, a future without Lizzie would be a future of misery, loneliness and sadness.

Oh my god, I'm going to lose her . . . .

And with that thought, he imagined himself in the future, like David, permanently trapped in the past, trapped in his prison of grief, longing, and self-pity. He cringed at the picture, he shook his head, angry at what he was about to become. He didn't want that future, he didn't want that sort of life where he would wake up feeling as if he didn't want to live anymore, a life where it was a daily struggle to manage the simple, most basic functions in life.

Yet, he felt himself resigned to his tragic fate. If he didn't lose her to Jimmy, he would lose her to someone else, someone more deserving of Lizzie, someone more handsome, taller, and more popular than him.

She's right, we're not meant to be together, he thought, as he hung his head in sheer dejection . . . .

He glanced over to her, still underneath the blanket, still sobbing, and he was all tied up inside, unsure of what to do. Maybe, I should leave, and let her be alone. I'm just making her uncomfortable now, he thought.

Drowning in negativity, self-doubt, and pessimism, he suddenly heard a voice talking to him. It was an inner voice, it was his voice, but it sounded deeper, older. It sounded like David's voice.

_Do you love her?_ The voice asked.

Yes! I do! He replied silently.

_Then, fight for her! Don't give up so easily! Take a chance! Take the risk! Acknowledge the possibility of failure, and go for it!_

_Do it, even though you are afraid, even though you fear the worst, even though you don't know if you could stand it if she said no, even if you don't know if you could bear the intense and agonizing pain of having your heart and soul rejected._

_Do it, for yourself. Do it for Lizzie. Give yourselves the chance you both deserve._

_So, wake up, Gordo!_

_Snap out of your self-induced trance of depression. Right now!_

_Stop feeling sorry for yourself, stop drowning yourself in your doubts and worries. Instead, do what you want to do, do what your heart is telling you to do. Give yourself release . . . free yourself, liberate yourself._

_Be, yourself._

_Don't give up now! The future hasn't happened yet, it's not over yet. It's never been over, the future is ready to be written and rewritten, in each and every moment of the present. The future doesn't just happen some time down the road – the future happens now, it is whatever you make of it, right now._

_She's confused at the moment, and rightfully so. But, that's okay, because you're not confused, because you know what you want._

_So, tell her!_

As he listened the voice admonish him to take heart and to not give up, he mustered up the courage to look at Lizzie, who was sitting next to him and still sobbing softly underneath the blanket. Everything that was going on was taking an emotional toll on her. He wanted to reach and hold on to her and comfort her.

But, he just sat there, still lost in his thoughts. Things were becoming clearer. Her words were finally starting to make sense to him. When she said she didn't believe that they were meant to be together, she wasn't rejecting him, but just expressing the fundamental truth about life . . . that no one knows how the future will turn out.

Tonight, Lizzie was meant to die. Yet, she didn't. She's alive, because he acted, because he did something about it. Because he believed some crazy guy on the other side of a ham radio telling him that he was David Gordon living twelve years in the future.

Lizzie's alive, because he had faith. Because he took a chance. Because he took a risk. Because he believed that the future could be changed. Because he believed that Lizzie's death was not meant to happen.

That's what she's getting it! He exclaimed silently. Of course! I get it now!

She was trying to tell him that nothing is certain and absolute in life, that life is all about taking risks, it's all about taking chances in the face of uncertainty.

He now understood, he and Lizzie are not meant to be together, because no one knows, not him, not her, what will happen to them in the future.

What he did know for certain was how he felt about her, and just how much he wanted to be with her, right now, in this moment.

And that's what he needed to tell her, that's what he wanted to tell her.

I want to be with you, Lizzie McGuire, because I'm so in love with you, he thought to himself, as he turned his head towards her, reached over to her, and began to tell her the truth and depth of his desires and his love for her . . . .

**To be continued**


	27. Chapter Twenty Seven

**A Second Chance -- Chapter 27**

**Author's Note:** _Okay, finally, here's the next chapter. Man, was it a hard chapter to write. I really wanted to get this right. So, tell me what you all think! Read and review. HM._

-------------------------------------------------

He turned to her and he gently shook her shoulders, which were still covered by the blanket. "Lizzie," he whispered. "I -- I think I understand. And -- I need to tell you something."

As he spoke, he looked down at his hands and noticed that they were trembling with great anticipation. Oh man, I'm feeling so nervous right now . . . .

He was feeling nervous, because in this very moment, he could see the future opening up right before his eyes.

For Lizzie, Gordo's words had quietly startled her tears into a temporary submission. She wiped away the tears from her face with the sleeves of her sweater, as she emotionally prepared herself to emerge from undercover.

She slowly peeled away the blanket from her face and gingerly turned her head to face the boy sitting next to her.

Her hair was disheveled, and her eyes were red and puffy from the tears.

He gazed at her intently, silently, and she suddenly became self-conscious of her appearance.

"Oh, don't look at me like that, Gordo, I must be such a mess," she said worriedly, as she tried to straighten out the tangled strands of her hair.

"No, you look beautiful," he said instantly, in a soft, wistful voice. He paused, his eyes still firmly fixed on her face, and said, "You -- you're always beautiful to me, Lizzie."

As soon as he uttered those words, he averted his eyes, and looked out at the rain, feeling utterly raw and exposed.

She blushed and felt a surge of warm energy course through her body. She was still a bit incredulous that anyone could find her beautiful when she knew she was a complete physical and emotional wreck, but she could hear it in his voice --- he was telling his truth.

"Oh Gordo, that's so sweet of you to say, it really is."

Her tender words brushed away his feelings of exposure and embarrassment, and he mustered up the courage to look at her again. She had a small, soft, inquisitive smile on her face, a welcoming smile.

As he drew closer to her, his hands began to tremble with even greater ferocity, and he started to feel a cold shiver travel up and down his spine. He closed his eyes and gasped for breath.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

Still shaking, he replied, "I -- I'm fine, Lizzie. Just got a little bit of the chills, and . . . and, I'm nervous, that's all. Just a little nerves."

Her brows furrowed with concerned curiosity. She grasped his hands, providing them some much needed warmth and nurturance. "What are you nervous about? It's okay, you can tell me."

His shaking began to increase and his whole body now began to tremble.

He thought to himself, you need to say it, now, before you burst! He took a deep breath, and then began to speak.

"Lizzie, I - I'm so nervous right now, because I need to tell you something, and I'm so scared about what you're going to say, but I have to say it anyway, because this is who I am, this is what I want, and I need you to hear this from me," he said in a rapid fire, jittery voice.

"It's okay," she cooed, trying to relax and calm her friend. "I'm here, I'm listening."

He closed his eyes. "I know you're confused about everything that's happened tonight, and so am I. But there's one thing that I'm absolutely certain about."

He paused. Her eyes were firmly glued on his eyes, waiting with anticipation for him to continue speaking.

"Wh- what is it?" She asked.

"It's you, Lizzie, I'm certain about you," he said, in a firm, resolute voice.

He paused once more, then he finally began to express his heart's truest desires. "I – I love you, so much, and . . . well, you're -- you're my everything, and what I want, and would love more than anything else in the world is -- is for us to be together."

"Oh!" She gasped. She put her hand to her heart, stunned, taken aback by the confidence, urgency, and passion in his voice.

Even though he had told her earlier in the night about his love for her, it still hadn't fully sunk in, it still hadn't felt real, it still was something she didn't quite understand.

But, when he just said those words to her again, with all that had occurred tonight, she was finally and truly beginning to understand the truth and immensity of his feelings, of his palpable longing . . . for her.

And for Gordo, as soon as he uttered those words, he felt an enormous sense of liberation. It felt as if the weight of the world had finally been lifted off of his shoulders.

Emboldened with confidence, he continued. "I have no idea what you're thinking or feeling, but this is something I've been needing to tell you. You're absolutely right, I don't know if we're meant to be together. But, there's only one way to find out, right?"

"Ye – yes . . ." She replied absent-mindedly, as if in a trance. Her head was swirling around like a hurricane. She closed her eyes and held on even more firmly to his hands.

"I mean, I finally understand what you've been saying tonight, about not wanting to have the future set in stone. And you're right. No one knows what the future is going to bring. We've proven that tonight. We've changed the future, you know? And you're still alive, and you're here with me as I'm telling you all these things. Oh my god, this night, it's been so unbelievably miraculous."

She nodded in affirmance.

"And tonight, the one thing I've learned is that I never want to live with regrets, I never want to live thinking what if, thinking what might of happened. I've been living all these years thinking and dreaming about what it would be like if you and I were together. I'm tired of that, Lizzie. I don't want to dream anymore. I want it to be real. I want us to be real."

He paused to collect his breath.

"I know you might not want the same thing, and if you said no, my heart would be totally shattered. But, that's the risk I have to take. I know that now. So, Lizzie, I want to be with you . . . Do you want to be with me?"

"I -- I . . . still don't know . . . ." She said. She tried to finish her answer, but she found herself completely tongue-tied. Overwhelmed, frightened, touched, scared, moved, anxious, she was a bundle of mixed up emotions.

Undeterred by her ambivalence, he squeezed her hands tenderly, and then said, "But, I do know. I know how I feel about you. And I know you care about me, and deep down I know you love me, too. I've felt it tonight. I've felt it when we've kissed, I've felt it when we've held hands, I've felt it when we've held each other, I've felt it when we've looked into each other's eyes, I've even felt it when we were fighting and angry with each other."

She cautiously nodded, acquiescing to the truth of his words.

"And I feel it right now," he whispered, as he brushed away her hair from her face.

Her eyes brimming with tears, she raised her right hand and quietly stroked his hair and his cheeks. She felt like she was about to explode from the turbulence caused by her emotions.

"Oh, Gordo, I -- I . . . " She tried again, but yet again, she couldn't finish her sentence. He was leaving her literally speechless. So, instead of trying to respond, she closed her eyes and began to take in all that Gordo had said.

As she pondered his words, her mind suddenly drifted to thoughts of Jimmy. She began to wonder about their relationship and about their future together.

_What . . . what would it be like if I kept going out with him? She mused. I think I'd be happy with him, and he's a really nice boy . . . but . . . but there's just something missing, there's something about him that's not quite right. _

_And maybe that's why we ended up so badly in the future . . . ._

_But, do I want to break up with him now? What would happen if we weren't together anymore? I guess I'd be sad, and I'd miss him for a little while, but soon life would move on, I'm sure he would move on, and I would move on . . . ._

With that thought, her mind and heart then wandered towards Gordo, and she wondered, what about Gordo? What would it be like if I started going out with him?

As she pondered this question, she realized that she couldn't remember a time when they weren't together. The longest they've been apart since they were toddlers was when he went off to a boy's summer camp right after the sixth grade. She remembered how he had written her letters almost every day telling her about his adventures at camp.

And, most of all, she remembered missing him dearly during that long summer . . . .

_He's always been there for me, and we've always been together, she thought. He has always been someone I could count on, sometime to turn to when I needed a shoulder to cry on . . . ._

_And I've always just assumed he would always be there for me._

But, now, she was beginning to realize that even though he was such an integral and important part of her life, for all these years, she had been taking him for granted.

But, tonight, she had figured out that nothing is certain, and perhaps, someday, he might not always be there for her.

_What if . . . one day he really does leave me? What if he finds some other girl that he likes? I know there are lots of girls that like him. _

_Even though he doesn't notice, that Parker is always flirting with him, ever since that dance in eighth grade. _

_And what if he starts noticing and starts to flirts back? What if he starts to go out with her? What they go off to college together and then they get married? What if he isn't there for me anymore? What if he really does ends up with her? _

_What if he's no longer my Gordo?_

That thought sent shivers of fear and dread straight into her tender heart.

As she started to imagine her life without Gordo, all she kept feeling was a piercing sense of emptiness, as if a piece of her very own soul was missing.

I'd miss him so much, she cried silently.

_But . . . I'd just miss him as a friend, right? I wouldn't miss him like I miss a boyfriend or someone that I'm in love with . . . . right? _

Then she thought about the past few hours, the kisses, the tender gazes, that look of sheer hurt and agony on his face when they were fighting, and those words he had finally gathered up the courage to say to her . . . _I love you, Lizzie McGuire . . . ._

And now, she could finally see, as clear as day, just how much he adored her. She realized now the special way he had always looked at her, ever since she could remember. She tried to dismiss it, to deny it as something in her imagination. But she now knew that all this time, he always looked at her if he was looking at the most beautiful and special girl in the world.

_Gordo, you're so great . . . ._

She was slowly coming to the inexorable conclusion that she couldn't really imagine a life without him. She loved everything about him . . . she loved being with him, she loved being held in his arms and in his embrace, she loved being physically close to him, so close that she could hear and feel his soft breath.

She loved his smile, she loved his nervous laugh, she loved his tenderness, she loved his friendship, she loved how smart he was, she loved his love for her . . . .

And, then, with that thought, an epiphany went off in her heart, like fireworks exploding in the summer night sky.

She now had clarity. She now had her heart's truth.

She smiled, and then gazed at the boy sitting next to her. He was sitting there, with his hands still holding onto her hand, still looking at her as if she was the most beautiful girl in the entire world.

She then turned her eyes to the night sky, and watched as the rain kept up its dutiful trek towards the earth.

_It's so beautiful, the rain, the gentle rain . . . ._

This was the most amazing, beautiful night of her life, she thought, a night when past, present, and future all converged to reveal to her the truth about her relationship with her best friend.

She now knew what she wanted to say to him.

"Gordo?"

"Yes, Lizzie?"

"The answer is – yes. I do . . ."

His jaw dropped wide open, and he felt as if his heart had stopped beating.

Yes? She said yes . . . does that yes mean what I think it means?

She smiled, cupped his cheek with her hand, and nodded, "Yes, it does," she replied. "I want to give us a chance. I want to be . . . with you, Gordo," she said, her eyes shimmering and glistening from tears of hope and excitement.

"You do?" He replied incredulously. He couldn't quite believe what he had heard. His mind and body started to float, as if on water. "But . . . what – what about Jimmy?"

"I'm going to break up with him, tomorrow. I mean, I like Jimmy, but I just realized there's something missing, something lacking about him. I couldn't figure out just what, until right this moment."

"What – what is it?"

"He's not you," she said. "He's not my Gordo, and he never can, and he never will be. Because it's you that I . . . ." She paused, tentative, unsure of how to say the words she wanted to say.

"Yes?"

She looked him in the eyes, put her arms around him, and pulled him closer to her. Their faces were separated by only a few lonely centimeters. She stroked his hair, brushed his cheek with the back of her fingers, and smiled.

"You're my dearest, best-est, most cherished friend in the whole wide world, "she whispered into his ears, "and, now, I'm falling in love with you. I love and adore you, my one and only wonderful Gordo."

Upon hearing her words, those beautiful, precious words, Gordo's heart broke open into a silent, joyful supernova.

She loves me!

Quietly, they gazed into each other eyes until he broke the beautiful, awkward silence by getting up from the loveseat, with his hand still holding her hand. He then tenderly tugged and lifted her up off her seat, so that they were now standing on the porch, with the rain their only audience.

He put his hands around her waist and pulled her into his body. He then lifted his hands slowly up her back, and with a knowing smile, he whispered, "I love you, too, Lizzie McGuire," and then he kissed her sweet, soft, ruby lips, with all of his passion, with all of his love.

And the pair stood there, as they were the only two people on earth, embracing each other, kissing each other, feeling like they had finally found one another, after all of these years.

As the rain continued to fall, dawn was about to awaken from its long, peaceful slumber.

And, for Gordo and Lizzie, the future now seemed bright and clear, and full of hope, and love . . . .

TO BE CONTINUED


	28. Chapter Twenty Eight

**A Second Chance – Chapter Twenty Eight**

**Author's Note: **This Chapter is from David's POV. It picks up after David had lost the radio connection with Lizzie and Gordo. He's standing at his desk, looking at the note Lizzie had written to him twelve years ago.

This chapter marks the beginning of the conclusion of this story, and it will tell you what happened to Lizzie and David twelve years after they first got together. There should be two more chapters after this one, and then we'll be done! Read and review. HM.

**DAVID'S POV**

David examined Lizzie's letter one last time, then carefully folded it and put away in his desk drawer.

_It's time to let go of the past, just like Lizzie said . . . ._

After shutting the desk drawer, he sat down at the desk and stared intently at the ham radio, his mind drifting towards thought of Gordo and Lizzie.

What were they doing right now? He wondered.

He concentrated deeply, hoping that new memories would start popping into his mind once more.

But, nothing.

His head was still a murky mess, and all he could see were a jumbled set of incoherent pictures.

It's all out of my control now, he sighed, so, just let it go . . . let it all unfold however it may . . . .

With that thought, he was suddenly hit with a wave of fatigue.

He vigorously rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, hoping to chase away his sleepiness.

But, as the adrenaline rush that kept him going was starting to subside and dissipate, he was now starting to feel the physical effects of this stressful and difficult night.

Oh man, it feels like I've been run over by a steamroller. I need some sleep, right now . . . .

He picked up his weary body, dragged himself from his desk to his bedroom , and stumbled into his king-sized bed.

Once underneath his covers, he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep.

But, as tired and exhausted as he was, he wasn't able to drift into unconsciousness. Instead, he laid there in his bed, replaying the events of the past few days over and over.

In particular, he kept replaying the conversations he had with Lizzie, cherishing those all-too-short moments when he was actually talking with her and once again hearing the melodic sounds of her sweet, adorable voice.

Finally, after an hour of reminiscing about the events of the night, he found himself slipping slowly, inexorably, into a deep slumber . . . .

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. . . . An hour into his sleep, David Gordon's eyes popped wide open and he frantically sat up in his bed, grabbing his head with both of his hands and wincing in pain.

"Oh my god!"

David was in an incredible amount of pain. It felt someone was slamming his head with a sledgehammer.

He violently shook his head, trying desperately to make the pain go away.

As he continued to struggle with his pain, he suddenly saw a sudden burst of intensely bright white light flash in front of his eyes.

"Ohhh!" He shouted, as the glare from the light felt like it was melting his eyes.

He tried to use his hands to shield his eyes from the brilliant light, but he quickly realized that it was useless, because the light was not coming from the outside, but it was actually coming from inside of his mind.

_What in the world is happening to me? Am I dying?_

As the light finally subsided and disappeared into the quiet darkness of his consciousness, he breathed a sigh of relief, then gingerly got up off of his bed.

Furiously massaging his temples with the palms of his hands, he muttered to himself, _aspirins, I need aspirins_, as he stumbled towards the bathroom.

He entered the bathroom, opened the medicine cabinet, and took out a large bottle of advil. He popped several of them into his mouth, took a swig of water from the faucet, and then wandered out of the bathroom and into the living room.

He was wide awake now, as the pain in his head simply wouldn't let him go back to sleep.

He flopped on the couch and looked at the clock on the wall.

It read 4:30 a.m.

Oh, geez, it's still nighttime, he said, as he stretched his body along the length of the couch.

Outside, the rain was still falling, and the rhythm and pitter–patter of raindrops hitting the ground was having a soothing effect on his head and on his nerves. He was starting to breathe steadily again, and he found himself entering into a more relaxed state.

_Alright, maybe I'll be able to get back to sleep after all_, he thought.

He was wrong.

Just as he was about to close his eyes, he started to feel a soft rumbling coming from underneath the couch.

_Oh? What's this_? He wondered. _Are we having an earthquake_?

As the rumbling stopped, bright white light engulfed the couch, as if the couch was turning itself into a shining star.

"What the!?!??" He shouted as he leaped off the couch and watched the couch shimmer and glow.

The light show lasted a few seconds, then, in a blink of an eye, it was over.

He slowly crept closer to the couch to see if it was burned or damaged by the light. As he moved closer and closer, his jaw dropped in stunned astonishment.

"Oh my god . . ." He said, as he rushed over and flicked the light switch on the living room wall.

He rubbed his eyes several times to make sure, but his eyes were not deceiving him . . . his once black leather couch had been transformed into a plush, cream-colored, u-shaped sofa.

He scanned the living room, to see if anyone was there, if someone was playing some sort of practical joke on him.

He didn't see anyone, but what he did see made him even more flabbergasted.

The entire house was now glowing with flashes of white light, and all the furniture and furnishings in his house were shifting, moving, changing, disappearing and reappearing; it was as if he were in a carnival funhouse full of those magical mirrors that warped and distorted your reflections.

Overcome with awe and fear, he just stood there, frozen solid in the middle of the living room, utterly captivated by the events transpiring around him, and just watching as his house re-arranged itself right in front of his eyes.

The coffee table turned from an old, wooden, aging table bought at a yard sale into a sleek, refined, glass coffee table with a marble base.

The bare walls were now being covered with beautiful impressionistic paintings.

And candles! Large, thick, candles, small, colorful candles, thin candles, votive candles, they were appearing everywhere, on the coffee table, on the side table, on the bookshelves, on the entertainment center.

Plants and flowers also started to bloom out of nowhere -- lillies in a clear glass vase appeared on the coffee table, roses in a blue vase on the side table.

The amazing aroma from the flowers was absolute heaven to David's senses.

_This . . . this is unbelievable . . . ._

When it was all said and done, his living room had instantly been made over, as if by magic, from a sparsely furnished bachelor pad into a cozy, warm, inviting, and impeccably decorated home, with a distinctive feminine touch.

As he gazed out in his new living room, slowly, he was beginning to understand what was happening . . .

Could it be? He wondered, as his mind raced with all the possible implications and consequences.

Yes, it must be. That's the only explanation.

Lizzie and Gordo did it! Something must have happened since I last talked to Lizzie and Gordo, he speculated. Somethingwonderful . . . .

He also now knew why just moments ago he was awaken by the most intensely painful migraine headache . . . his head ached because it was now crammed and stuffed with all the new memories created since that night twelve years ago.

As try as he might, however, he still couldn't see or actually "remember" any of the newly formed memories. It felt like they were all there, but it was as if they were stuck, in a corner of his brain, unable to get out, unable to immerse themselves into his consciousness.

But, as he gazed at his transformed surroundings, he knew something dramatic had occurred, and it would just take time for his new memories to be unleashed.

He walked over to the coffee table and reached out with his left hand to touch the snow white lilies.

He then noticed something on his ring finger.

It looked like . . . .

Startled, he quickly put his hand to his face to closely examine the object on his hand.

It was indeed what he thought it was . . .

It was a ring.

More specifically, it was a gold wedding band.

_Oh my god, I'm . . . I'm . . . married?!?!?_

_And if I'm married, who – who – am I married to?_

He shook his head fiercely, hoping to shake his memories loose so that they would finally give him the answer.

Stubborn, his new memories refused to budge.

"Come on, let me remember! Tell me who I'm married to!" He yelled to himself.

Still, his mind was a complete blank.

_Alright, if my mind won't help me out, there's gotta be clues around here somewhere. I need to know if – if – oh my god, I need to know if I'm married to Lizzie!_

_Pictures! There has to be pictures!_

He feverishly scanned the living room, hoping to see any picture which would reveal to him the truth. There were no pictures on the walls, no pictures on the coffee table, no pictures on the side table.

He then scanned the entertainment center, and there, on the left shelf, he saw a 5 by 7 picture frame. Although he couldn't make out the faces, the picture in the frame looked like it was a picture of a man in a tuxedo, together with a woman in a wedding gown.

That . . . that must be it . . . .

As he slowly and cautiously walked over to the picture frame, he was suddenly overcome with a wave of anxiety and nervousness. It was as if he was about to find out the truth of his destiny, and he wasn't sure if he was ready for it.

As he reached for the photograph, he closed his eyes, grabbed the picture frame, and then brought it closer to his face.

C'mon, you can do it, just open your eyes, Gordo.

He did, but he then quickly covered the picture with his hand.

He gingerly moved his hand away to reveal only the identity of the man in the picture . . . it was him.

He was the man in the picture, and he was wearing a tuxedo and a broad grin on his face. He looked like he was about twenty-five years old, and he looked like he was the happiest man alive in the world.

Then, after taking in several deep breaths, he then slowly, deliberately, slid his hand away from the picture to reveal the identity of the bride . . . .

Okay, this is it . . .

He let out an audible gasp when he finally laid eyes on the picture of the bride.

She was breathtakingly beautiful in her flowing white wedding gown.

She had a gentle smile on her face, and her eyes were gazing lovingly at David standing next to her.

The bride in the picture was twenty-five year old Lizzie McGuire . . . .

TO BE CONTINUED . . . .


	29. Chapter Twenty Nine Reunion

**A Second Chance – Chapter 29**

He crumpled to the floor, clutching the picture to his chest, burning hot tears of unbridled joy streaming down his face.

"Oh my god," he cried, "Lizzie, she's alive! Thank God, she's alive!!!"

He stayed on his knees, staring at the picture and hoping and praying to God that this was all real, that this was all true, and that this wasn't just a wishful dream.

Not only was Lizzie alive, but he was married to her . . . .

"It – it can't be true . . . . This . . . this is unbelievable . . . ."

He slowly got up from the floor, wiped the tears away from his face and stumbled onto the sofa.

He put the picture down and began massaging his temples, trying to loosen up his mind and free his memories.

_I just wish I could remember everything, I wish I could remember getting married to her, I wish I could remember being with her, as my wife . . . ._

He scanned his living room again, taking in, with awe, the miraculous transformation that it had just undergone.

He breathed in the room's new décor and atmosphere. The colored candles and flowers imbued the room with a soft, romantic, cozy feeling.

_It's so beautiful . . . and this room, this house, it now feels like . . . home_.

Lizzie must have done all of this, he thought, gazing up at the ceiling.

_I can feel her presence everywhere . . . ._

He picked up the wedding picture and examined it again.

As he did, a thought struck him like a bolt of lightning.

_Wait . . . if Lizzie and I are married, and she designed our living room, then that must mean we're . . ._

_. . . living together_.

"Of course! That's what married couples do, David Gordon, they marry each other and live together," hemuttered to himself,slapping himself on the forehead.

_And, that means . . . that must mean . . . . that she . . . . Lizzie must be . . . ._

He jumped up and hovered excitedly over the coffee table, as tried to absorb the wonderful, amazing reality of the situation.

_Lizzie! Oh my god, she's here! She has to be here!_

"Lizzie!" He shouted. "Lizzie!"

Only a secretive silence greeted his calls.

"Lizzie! Answer me, please!"

He frantically ran around the living room, searching for any signs of one Lizzie McGuire.

No one was there.

_Where could she be?_

He looked back at the clock, saw the time, and instantly realized where she must be.

_Of course, you idiot, it's still ridiculously early in the morning, she's must still be asleep. _

And if she's sleeping . . . .

_The bedroom_!

His heart racing, he sprinted towards the hallway leading up to the bedroom.

When he reached the room, he saw that the door was slightly ajar, with a soft, quiet darkness emanating from the inside.

Slowly and quietly, he gently pushed opened the door and carefully wandered inside.

Once entering the room, he was greeted with the aromatic scent of flowers intermingled with the sensual flavors of a woman's perfumes.

_Lizzie . . . ._

As he breathed in the wonderful scents, his hands started to tremble and his heart started to beat and pound like a heavy drum.

The room was pitched in darkness, but he didn't want to turn on the light and startle her, if she, in fact, was sleeping in the room.

So, he stood there, letting his eyes gradually adjust to the darkness, pausing, trying to get a handle on the magnitude of this incredible moment.

His heart skipped a noticeable beat as he noticed a figure sleeping underneath the sheets. He could see the sheets rhythmically move up and down with each breath.

He gulped, tingling nervousness coursing up and down his body.

He felt disembodied, as if he was floating above the room, watching himself standing there, frozen with sheer anticipation.

_I . . . I can't move . . ._

Although his mind was ordering his body to stay firmly in place, his body seemed to have a mind and desire of its own, and despite his fierce internal resistance, he took slow, deliberate, steps, walked over to the left side of the king sized bed, and sat down on the empty spot next to the person soundly asleep.

As he sat down, he noticed packed suitcases sitting right outside of the closet.

For a slight moment, he wondered what the suitcases were for, but that question quickly darted out of his consciousness as he turned to the person lying on the bed.

She was sleeping on her side, with her back to him.

He couldn't see her face, but he could tell it was a woman, a woman who appeared to have shoulder length blonde hair.

He hated having to wake her up, but he had to, he had to find out the truth . . . .

He scooted himself closer to the woman, and he gently shook her back. He whispered, "Lizzie? Is it you?"

"Hmmmm?" She murmured, as she shifted her legs with his touch.

_Her voice . . . __that voice . . . ._

With his heart in his throat, he shook her and whispered again, "Lizzie, wake up . . . it's me, Gordo!"

_Please, wake up, for me . . . ._

"Wh—what is it, Gordo?" She replied drowsily. She let out a soft yawn, rubbed her eyes, then she turned over to face him, to see why she had been abruptly awaken fromher tranquil slumber.

Immobile, he watched as the woman's body twisted and shifted to face him. It all was happening in a split second, but for David, it felt like he was waiting for eternity to arrive.

In the darkness, their eyes finally met.

His wide-open eyes locked fiercely onto her sleepy eyes, as he if was staring into the very depths of her soul, as if he was a man arriving at an oasis after weeks, months, and years of wandering lost in the desert.

He found himself staring into the hypnotic hazel eyes of Lizzie McGuire.

"Oh my god, it is you . . . Lizzie, it's you," he gasped.

"Of course it's me," she softly replied.

Tears streamed down his face as he tried to fully grasp and comprehend the situation. He couldn't believe his eyes; he couldn't believe his mind; he couldn't believe who he was talking with, in his house, in his bed.

He couldn't speak, all he could do was intently examine her eyes, her face, her soft, beautiful skin, her flowing blonde hair, her arms, her legs.

His mind, body, and soul were blown away by her achingly beautiful face. Her face still had the youthful, precocious appearance of her teenage years, but now it was enhanced with an adult sophistication and grace.

She noticed the stunned, pale look etched on his face, and the tears streaming down from hiseyes. "Gordo, are you okay?"

She picked herself up so that she was now sitting up on the bed and squarely facing him. She pulled back her tangled hair and hastily tied it up in a bun.

She blinked several times to chase away the remnants of her sleepiness, then she gazed tenderly into his shell-shocked eyes, patiently waiting for his response.

Afraid to move, afraid to break the spell of the moment and have everything revert back to his past reality, he mustered up the courage, gave into his intense longing, and reached out with his hands and traced the features and contours of her face with his fingers.

Her skin was silky smooth and radiated soothing warmth, and he shuddered from the intimate touch.

"My god, Lizzie, you . . . you're so beautiful," he whispered.

_And you're real, you're not just a dream . . . ._

She blushed and averted her eyes. It felt wonderful as his hand and fingers lovingly explored her face. His fingers ran through her hair, stroked her ears, brushed her cheeks. She barely could resist kissing his fingers as they slowly, rhythmically circled her lips.

She looked into his eyes again and then kissed him softly on his cheek. "Are you alright, Gordo? You're acting like it's been years since you last saw me."

She giggled softly. "Not that I'm complaining."

He nodded, as the sound of her voice brought more tears to his eyes.

He couldn't hold himself back any longer and he wrapped his arms around her and held on to her with all of his heart, afraid that if he let go he would lose her forever to the black hole of time.

"I – I've missed you so much, Lizzie!"

He sobbed uncontrollably as he hugged her tightly, never wanting to let her go, never wanting this moment to end, wanting to be lost forever in her tender embrace.

She gently rocked his body, whispered soothing, comforting words in his ears, stroking his hair, holding and caressing his aching heart and body. She was deeply moved by the moment, and tears flowed from her eyes as she absorbed his pent up grieving and longing.

_Oh, Gordo . . ._

As she held onto him, she slowly began to understand what was going on.

Her thoughts drifted to twelve years ago, on the night of July 31st, when she had the most unusual experience of talking with a future version of her best friend, andwhen her best friend declared his love for her, and when she declared her love for him.

That night, her life changed forever, and the events of that memorable evening had all led up to this night, when past, present, and future collided, and would finally unveil to them the full significance of the entirety of their strange, unusual, and magical past.

_Maybe, there's a still a chance for us_, she silently hoped.

When his sobbing subsided and they finally broke their embrace, he shifted his body right next to her, so that they were sitting side by side, his hips and legs touching hers, his left arm wrapped around her shoulder and her head resting comfortably on his chest.

"Gordo," she whispered, "It happened, tonight. Didn't it?"

He nodded in affirmance.

"Yes, it all happened tonight. I was talking with Gordo, and you, over the ham radio."

"You mean?"

"Yes, the sixteen year old you, the night when we had that awful fight in the rain, the night when I first told you that I loved you."

"Oh," she responded, as her thoughts were transported back twelve years ago. She smiled as she remembered Gordo's passionate expression of his love for her.

"I remember that night so vividly, as if it just happened yesterday. It was such a beautiful night," she replied, with a tinge of melancholic nostalgia in her voice.

He grimaced. "But, I can't remember what happened that night, Lizzie. I slipped and hit my head on the floor a few hours ago, and now I can't see any new memories. After I lost contact with you and Gordo, I have no idea what happened after that."

"Do you have amnesia?" She asked, puzzled, deeply concerned.

"No, the memories are all there, but they just seem to be stuck in my head. So, the past twelve years in this lifetime are a complete blank."

Her body and heart froze. "You – don't remember anything about us?"

"No, nothing," he replied. "The only reason I knew you were here is because justa few minutes ago, my old living room was covered with light and just like that, it changed into what it is now, into the way you've decorated it. And then I found this wedding ring on my finger, and a picture of me and you, and then I figured it out . . . we're married!"

"Y- yes, that's right, we're married," she replied, softly, without any emotions.

"Do you know how happy this makes me, Lizzie? Oh my god, it's like all my dreams have come true!" He said, smiling broadly.

Her smile disappeared. She pulled away from him, bent over to the night drawer and turned on the lamp.

A soft, yellow glow instantly flooded the room.

He shielded his eyes from the glare, then as his eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness, he looked upon Lizzie, and gasped when he saw her beautiful, luminous face in the light.

He was about to reach over to touch her face, but he stopped himself when he saw that there was a sad, distraught look in her eyes.

"What's the matter? Is there something wrong?"

"You – you don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" He asked. He was starting to worry now.

"About us. About our marriage."

"No, I don't anything, except that we're married, and we're here, together, in our bed, in our house."

She didn't respond.

Puzzled, he then noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He looked at her ring finger.

The finger was bare.

"Lizzie, where's your wedding ring?"

She turned her head away from him. "It's -- it's on the night drawer."

He was awash in confusion.

_Why -- why isn't she wearing her wedding ring?_

"What's going on, Lizzie?" His heart raced, waiting with dreaded anticipation. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer.

She shifted her body so that there now was some distance between them. She took a deep breathe and then told him the truth.

"Gordo, I haven't worn it since we decided to separate."

The answer was like a dagger to his heart.

_Oh, no . . . it can't be . . . ._

"Separate? When—when did we decide this?"

"Just a few days ago. I – I'm moving out tomorrow. To my parents' house, for awhile, until I figure things out."

His mind was swirling, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

For so long, he always believed that if he and Lizzie had gotten together, they would have remained together for the rest of their lives.

He never could have imagined marrying Lizzie and then separating, and then getting a divorce.

That thought had been un-imaginable.

Until now.

"Lizzie, what happened between us? I -- I can't believe it, I don't want to believe it. We can work it out, can't we?"

She looked at him with eyes of deep sadness and regret. She whispered, "Oh my god, Gordo, you really don't know remember anything, do you?"

"No, I don't. And I don't get it. Did -- did I do something wrong? Please, tell me, Lizzie, and I promise, whatever it is, I'll fix it, I'll make it up to you," he pleaded, desperation soaking his every word.

"Oh, no, you haven't done anything wrong," she replied.

She took his hand and firmly held on to it.

"You don't remember, but this is your idea, Gordo. You came home the other day and told me you wanted to separate from me," she said, her voice quivering, trying desperately to fight back her emotions.

His jaw dropped to the floor.

_It -- it was my idea?_

_Oh my god, no, that can't be true . . . ._

As he struggled to grasp what Lizzie had just told him, he suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of his skull and then he was blinded by a bolt of intensely bright white light.

He grabbed his head and keeled over into Lizzie's lap.

"Gordo!" Exclaimed Lizzie. "Ohmigosh, are you alright?"

He didn't answer. He couldn't answer.

Hewas being bombarded with millions and millions of new memories.

He was finally starting to remember everything . . . .

**TO BE CONTINUED**

**Author's Note: **I had to throw one last twist in there! The next chapter should be the grand conclusion (unless the chapter gets too long then I'll break it up into two). Please read and review. HM


	30. Chapter Thirty beginnings

**A Second Chance Chapter 30**

_**Author's Note**: Just as I expected, the last chapter started getting really long, so I had to break it up into smaller chapters. This chapter is a summary of the first years of their relationship. The next chapter will be about the second half of their relationship. Read and review. And Merry Christmas! HM_

The memories tumbled into his consciousness like millions of gallons of water bursting through a dam.

The normal laws of time and space were momentarily suspended as within the span of just a few minutes, he relived each and every single moment of the past twelve years of his life.

He was transported back to the night of July 31st, twelve years ago, and he began to see through young Gordo's eyes all the events that took place in the new timeline.

His life was literally flashing right before his eyes.

He wasn't fully immersed in the past, however. He was in two places and times at once, reliving the past while ever cognizant of his present, fully aware of being in Lizzie's lap, of being in her arms, and wondering with great fear and dread how his life had led up to this moment, when he was on the verge of separating from the girl he thought was the only love of his life . . . .

_Twelve years ago_

He finally saw everything that happened on this night twelve years ago. He saw his younger self talking to his older self on the ham radio, only this time, he was seeing it and feeling it all happen from the perspective of his younger self.

He saw himself and Lizzie on the porch, that magical moment on the backporch, when all of his dreams seemingly came true. He savored the first kiss with Lizzie as his girlfriend and quietly wished that the moment would never end.

He then watched their nascent relationship unfold and develop into everything he had dreamed about. The first several months of their relationship, he was virtually floating on air, lifted up by their love for each other.

_It was such a magical time!_

They did everything together – they walked to and from school together every morning. His favorite moments were memories of walking up to the McGuire residence, knocking on their door to be greeted by Lizzie's gorgeous eyes and her beckoning smile.

His heart would always skip a measurable beat upon his first morning glance of her beauty. As soon as she closed the door behind her, they would exchange a long, soft, slow, deep kiss, take hold of each other's hands, then saunter to school, hoping the walk would never end, marveling at the beauty of life's simple pleasures.

In school, they could hardly keep themselves from paying attention in class, as they constantly exchanged loving glances, winks, and smiles, all the while feigning interest in the dry subject matter being taught in class.

Their relationship caused some friction with Miranda, who sometimes felt like an invisible third-wheel with Lizzie and Gordo. But, eventually, the friends worked through their issues, and they made sure to never let their relationship get in the way of their friendship with Miranda.

David watched as they spent time together in his room or her room, cozing up together on the bed, talking to each other about everything and nothing, doing homework, watching movies, kissing, caressing, holding each other, revealing each others deeply-held truths.

Their friendship and relationship was deepening and growing with every moment they spent together.

Before they began their relationship, they were friends who knew each other's personalities, quirks, likes, and dislikes.

Now, they were lovers who knew the very depths of each other's hearts and souls . . . .

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He saw the first time that they made love.

It was on their first anniversary, the following July 31st, when, as seventeen year olds, they found themselves alone, again, in the McGuire residence. They planned a special candlelight dinner to celebrate their relationship at a gourmet French restaurant, but their plans got sidetracked when the night sky opened itself up and hurledfierce raindropsonto the earth.

The visibility during the rain-soaked night was nonexistent, and since the restaurant was several miles away, they didn't want to risk getting into an accident, so they canceled their reservations, stayed in, and conjured up themselves a makeshift Italian dinner – lasagna with Caesar salad, with coconut ice cream for dessert.

She set candles all over the living room, casting the room with a cozy, romantic feel. The night reminded them so much of the night they first got together, that they almost felt compelled to turn on Gordo's ham radio to try and to contact David.

After dinner, they exchanged anniversary gifts. She gave him a vintage copy of Rainer Marie Rilke's Collection of Poems and Essays, while he gave her a heart-shaped pendant, with their initials engraved on them.

Then, they went upstairs to her room, embraced and started kissing passionately. He laid her on her bed, and he slowly, gently, cautiously, unbuttoned her blouse, constantly gazing into her eyes to make sure that this was what she wanted.

Her eyes said _yes_.

She had been longing for this moment to happen. The past year, they had grown so much closer, he was so much a part of her, that now, the only thing left was for them to connect in the most intimate, sensual, and loving way possible.

It was the most wonderful night of their lives, as they shared each other's bodies as only lovers could do. He shivered and shook as his hands glided and caressed her silky soft body.

On this night, he found ecstasy and bliss with the girl he loved, with the girl of his dreams . . . .

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Their senior year together was a bittersweet one – because, by February, it became clear they would soon have to separate after their graduation. Gordo was to go off to the Bay Area to attend U.C. Berkeley, while Lizzie was to stay in Los Angeles to attend UCLA.

During the summer, they vowed that they wouldn't let the distance break up their relationship, and they promised each other that they would visit each other frequently, and phone and email each other daily.

The first several weeks of being apart were the most miserable of days for Gordo. He felt like a part of his soul had been ripped from his body and transplanted very far away and beyond his reach.

The first time he visited Lizzie at UCLA, she greeted him at the airport, threw herself into his arms, and they spent an eternity hugging and kissing each other while his baggage went round and round the carousel.

One year of living apart was too much. Lizzie, who did extremely well in her first year of college as a creative writing major, did well enough to be able to transfer to Berkeley, and they spent the next three years having the time of their lives in college, together.

The summer after their graduation, they moved back to Los Angeles and they decided to live togetherin a small studio apartment. Lizzie had gotten a job working for a public relations firm in Los Angeles, while Gordo had been accepted to USC Film School.

As soon as they had unpacked their belongings and settled in, Gordo set forward on his plans to ask Lizzie to be his wife.

He made the decision to propose on the night that they had decided to live together. He had always believed that they were meant to spend the rest of their lives together, and now finally, he was ready to make that commitment.

He planned for weeks to prepare the perfect wedding proposal – he was going to propose at their favorite French restaurant, with musicians playing a string version of "Jealous Guy," while on his knees and while reciting their favorite poem by Rilke.

And naturally, he planned to propose on the night of their anniversary, July 31st.

The problem is, things didn't quite turn out the way he envisioned.

Just before they were about to drive onto the freeway and head towards the restaurant, the front right tire blew out.

He cursed silently, then steered the wounded car towards the shoulder, parked it, got out of the car, rolled up his sleeves, and began to change the tire.

Dressed in his best suit, he was just about to remove the flat tire when a thunderstorm came out of nowhere and began pouring sheets and sheets of rain. Lizzie was outside the car, standing next to him, holding a flashlight on the wheel as he desperately tried to get the tire off. Unfortunately, the wheel seemed glued onto the car,and he couldn't pry the tire off, as hard as he tried.

The only thing he succeeded in doing was getting thoroughly wet.

_This night is ruined_, he thought.

Then, as he looked up into Lizzie's warm, caring eyes, his frustrations disappeared, and he thought, _no, this night isn't ruined, not yet . . . ._

He picked himself up, looked up into the rain, and reminded himself of that fateful rainy night when his life changed, and he thought, _it's now, the perfect moment is now._

"Lizzie, I – need to ask you something."

"Oh? What is it, Gordo?" She replied. As she gazed up at the hard rain falling on her face, she remarked, "Don't you think we should get back in the car and call for some help?"

She wiped away the rain from her face, then said with a wry smile, "You notice how it always seems to be raining on this night, on our night?"

He smiled. "Yeah, it rains just for us."

He then took her hands, put his rain soaked left knee down on the ground, gazed firmly into her eyes.

"Gordo, wh - what are you doing?" She asked, startled, confused.

"I have a question I need to ask you, remember?"

She smiled and nodded. Her heart skipped a beat as she slowly began to realize what was about to happen.

"Lizzie, I'd plan on asking you this at the restaurant, where it would been a lot drier, but, you know, I think it's fitting that I ask you this while we're here, together, in the rain."

Her heart was in her throat.

She nodded, and waited.

He bowed his head, gathered his composure, then looked back up and gazed deeply into her eyes. "You're the love of my life, Lizzie McGuire, you mean more to me than anything, anyone in the world."

Tears started to mingle with the raindrops on her face.

He reached into his pocket, pulled out a small container, opened it, and took out a diamond engagement ring.

Her eyes widened when she saw the ring. She knew what was happening, yet seeing the ring was making it all feel real.

"I want to spend the rest of my life with you, you're my heart and soul. Lizzie McGuire, will you marry me?"

Her lips quivered, her hands shook.

A nervous, joyous smile formed on her lips. "Y—yes," she whispered softly. "Yes, Gordo."

Upon hearing those magical words, his heart soared up into the night sky.

He got up off his knees, placed the ring on her finger, and then kissed her body with his passionate embrace. "I love you so much," he whispered into her ear.

And they remained there, in the rain, blissfully unaware of their wet surroundings, thoroughly enraptured by the moment.

---------------------------------- 

They were married the same night next year. They were both twenty-three years old, she was stunningly beautiful in her snow white wedding gown, and he was handsome in his custom made tuxedo. Miranda was Lizzie's maid of honor, while Ethan Craft was Gordo's best man, and their first slow dance was to their song, John Lennon's Jealous Guy.

And of course, on that night, in honor of their marital union, it rained.

TO BE CONTINUED --


	31. Chapter Thirty One Endings?

**A Second Chance – Chapter 31**

_**Author's Note**: Another update fresh off the presses! Think of it as a Christmas gift of sorts. Just as I suspected, my "last chapter" is turning into several chapters. There should be one more chapter after this one, and then we'll be done. It's been quite a journey writing this story, I'm going to be a bit sad in finally letting this story go. On a plus side, finishing this story will mean that I will start tackling my other unfinished stories. Serendipity is next on my list. _

_**Sethducky** -- as for your question about how the adultLizzie knows about everything that's happened, that's the paradox of time travel. Even though everything happened "tonight," remember, in reality,it alsotook place twelve years ago in the past. In other words, the events of the night are occurring simultaneously in the past and in the future. If you think really hard about time travel, then you'll see you always end up with certain paradoxes. Which is what makes time travel stories so much fun! _

_Merry Christmas! HM_

_----------------------------------------------------------------------------------_

The first few years of their marriage were everything he dreamed about ever since he was a little boy who longedfor the affections of a pretty blonde girl named Lizzie McGuire.

He couldn't get enough of the wonderful fact that Lizzie was now his wife, his partner for life.

His life was as perfect as it could be.

Or, so it seemed . . . .

The slow disintegration of their marriage began as soon as his film career started taking off.

Immediately upon graduating from film school, the film he directed as his final school project won critical acclaim and put him on the map as a new, hot, young director.

There was so much buzz around him that soon afterthe release of the film,a major studio approached him and offered to let him direct one of its mainstream, big budget productions.

He jumped at the opportunity, and he ended directing a film that achieved both critical and commercial success.

In a span of eighteen months, David Gordon had become a household name in Hollywood circles.

With Lizzie by his side supporting him, with his early success emboldening him, his career increasingly became the major focus and preoccupation of his life.

His career was on the super-fast track. He had a gloriously wonderful taste of success, and he wanted more of it, he couldn't get enough of it.

He loved it when fans raved about his movies, when critics wrote and praised his directorial prowess and abilities, when famous actors would call him and tell him that they wanted to work with him, when studios would call him begging him to direct a movie for them.

He was driven to make the best and most popular movies out there. He wanted to work with the best actors, he wanted to work with the best filmmakers, and he wanted to go down in history as one of the greatest directors of all time . . . .

His ambitions, however, were taking on steady toll on his personal life, on his marriage.

Four years into his marriage, he was regularly working one hundred hour weeks and traveling to distant shooting locations for months at a time, apart and away from his wife.

Sometimes, days then weeks would go by without any real contact between the two, except for a hurried exchange of cursory emails or phone messages.

For Gordo, life was constantly on the go, constantly in motion, and he didn't make the time to maintain a real connection with Lizzie.

He was taking Lizzie for granted.

What made things worse was that Lizzie had begun to travel as part of her job as well.

Often, when Gordo was in Los Angeles, Lizzie was somewhere in Eastern Europe, and when Lizzie was in Los Angeles, Gordo was in Africa conducting principle photography on his new one hundred million dollar fantasy film.

So, with each passing day, the distance between the two grew wider and wider.

He hardly noticed it, because the sense of separation was subtle and building up only gradually. Also, given how busy he was, he didn't have the time to breathe nor take a step back to reflect on the state of his marriage.

But, she noticed.

And with every day that the walls between them grew higher and harder, it was as if her heart was being broken, piece by piece, day by day, slowly, and painfully.

She would often lay awake late in the nights, in their bed, staring at the empty space right next to her, wondering how he was, wondering where he was.

She missed him terribly, and it all hurt her deeply.

For Gordo, however, it was a different story. He still loved Lizzie, but she increasingly was becoming a second-thought, a tangent in his life.

Obsessed with his career, his life became about doing whatever it took to go as far as he could in the movie business.

That meant becoming a player in the Hollywood social scene. He knew networking was crucial for his long-term success, and so he dove head first into the Los Angeles celebrity nightlife. He attended every film premier, charity event, and celebrity party that he could fit into his tight schedule.

Sometimes, he and Lizzie would go together, but, more often, he would attend alone and stay up until the early hours of the next morning.

A few years ago, he could hardly have imagined himself as someone who would be into the Hollywood social scene. But, the Hollywood lifestyle was absolutely intoxicating, and the David Gordon he used to be was slowly being replaced by a new David Gordon, a David Gordon completely driven by his thirst for fame and recognition.

His success was not going unnoticed by members of the opposite sex.

At these Hollywood social engagements, he was starting to attract the attention of beautiful actresses enamored by his charisma and by their desires to land a role in his next movie.

Much to his bemused surprise, these glamorous, sensual women were constantly hitting on him.

Each time, he would politely rebuff their advances.

But, with each breathtakingly beautiful woman that flirted with him, it became harder and harder for him to resist, and he was beginning to imagine thoughts and desires that he thought he would only have for Lizzie.

He never acted on his desires, and he knew he never would. But, he felt incredibly guilty anyway – it felt like he was emotionally betraying his wife.

But, of all the beautiful women that surrounded him, the woman he started to develop a real yet unconscious attraction to was an assistant editor named Allison, a stunningly beautiful woman with her own acting and directing aspirations. They worked on several films together, spending hours and hours working together, attending parties and press conferences together.

He loved that he was able to talk film with her in a way that he couldn't do so with Lizzie. He started to look forward to spending time with her, the same way he used to look forward to spending time with Lizzie.

At first, he thought of Allison as simply a great colleague and good friend. But, as their working relationship grew, he started to suspect that she had strong feelings for him.

And even though he didn't want to admit it, he was enjoying the fact that this beautiful woman, who could have any man she wanted, was attracted to him, a short, cerebral, film-geek.

In the fourth year of his marriage, he hardly spent anytime with his wife anymore. And,the few moments that he did spend with her were cordial, polite, and pleasant, but emotionally empty and distant. They hardly spoke with each other in any meaningful way.

Their dinners together, which used to be filled with joyous chatter and laughter, were now littered with awkward silences and perfunctory small talk.

When they did converse, it was usually him doing all the talking, rambling on and on about some aspect of a film he was working on.

He was so self-absorbed in his little world that the little details in their relationship began to slip through the cracks.

He barely noticed when she changed her hairstyle or her style of clothing.

And he didn't remember her telling him one night that she had started to do some writing on the side, and that her real goal was to become a full time novelist.

As their marriage closed in on their fifth anniversary, they now started fighting in a way that they never did before. They would yell at each other about seemingly minor things, like who was supposed to take out the trash, or who was supposed to pay the cell phone bill on time.

Their marriage was slowly falling apart.

As his marriage disintegrated, he started to confide in Allision about his marital troubles.

He found it extremely easy to open up to her. And even though their relationship was still operating at a purely platonic level, he could feel something growing between them. He was afraid to acknowledge it, but it was there.

He knew it.

She knew it.

And at some unconscious level, Lizzie knew it . . . .

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One month before their fifth wedding anniversary, he began to toy with the thought of separating from his wife.

At first, it was just a stray, random thought, a thought that startled and frightened him.

But, eventually, that random thought became a consistent, relentless pattern, as each and every day that thought grew from an idea to a desire and eventually to a reality.

On July 28, 2015, a few days before their wedding anniversary, he finally made up his mind.

He knew what he had to do, he knew what he wanted in his life . . . .

As he drove home that night to tell her his decision, he was in a complete fog and daze.

_What in the world am I doing? Why am I doing this? And why am doing this when our wedding anniversary is coming up?_

He walked into his house, put his keys down on the side table next to the door, and wandering inside looking for Lizzie.

"Lizzie? Are you here?"

"I'm in the kitchen!"

He unloosened his tie, took a gulp of air, and then walked into the kitchen.

He saw her, standing over the sink, washing some dishes and preparing to make tonight's dinner.

"Hi honey," she said, with a small smile. "How was your day?"

"It was fine," he said absent-mindedly. "Uh, Lizzie, I need to talk to you about something."

"Oh? Did something happen on your latest shoot? Did Jessica Alba hurt herself again doing those action stunts?"

"No, it's not about my film. It's – about us."

The somber tone in his voice stopped Lizzie dead in her tracks.

She slowly turned off the sink faucet, wiped her hands on the dish towel, then cautiously sat down at the kitchen table.

_Something's wrong . . . ._

He joined her at the table, took hold of her hand, and started to nervously play with her fingers.

"What is it, David?" She asked, with a palpable tremor in her voice.

"I – we –"

"Is everything alright?"

"No, it isn't," He sighed. "Everything is not alright, and I think we both know it."

She glanced into his dark, brooding eyes and nodded. "Y- yes, I think so."

He smiled grimly.

She smiled back, trying desperately to remain positive. "What should we do about it? About us? Do you want to start seeing a couple's therapist?"

He paused. He didn't know how to say it. He didn't know how to do it.

But, it felt like he had no choice. This was what he wanted. This was where his life was taking him.

He took a deep breath before saying those words he knew would break her heart.

"Gordo?" She said, trying to recapture his wandering attention.

He looked towards the floor, and said, "Lizzie – I think we should try a trial separation."

Her face turned ghostly pale.

She pulled her hand away from his hand.

"A separation?" She whispered.

"I love you Lizzie, I always will, but us, we're not doing so well right now."

"Ye – yes, but . . ."

"We've become one of those old, complacent married couples. And I feel so awful, I know I've been neglecting you, and it hurts me so much that I haven't been there for you lately."

"But, David, we're just going through something all married couples go through. We can -- "

He cut off her sentence.

"No, I just can't be there for you now. I mean, this next month I have to finish shooting _An Eternal Engagement_, and we're running behind on schedule because Jess Alba did hurt herself doing an action sequence. And then when I'm done with that film, I'm going to have go on location in Africa to start shooting _Synchronicity. So,_right now – I -- I just don't have it to be the husband that you need for me to be. And I need some time and space to think things through, you know? "

As he completed his sentence, he nervously waited for her response like a prisoner awaiting his execution.

He was greeted with stony silence.

Her face was still drained of all color. She was running her right hand through her hair, twirling her hair around her fingers and staring up at the ceiling.

Finally, she responded.

"No, Gordo, I don't know. I love you, and I want it to work for us, I don't want to give up on us."

"But, we're not giving up, it's not like we're getting a divorce," he said.

_Yet_, he thought silently.

She peered deeply into his eyes, paused, collected her thoughts, then asked, "David, do you still love me?"

He looked at her with great incredulousness.

"Of course I do, Lizzie, what kind of question is that?"

She kept her eyes in his eyes. "Okay."

She paused again, then, very softly, she whispered, "But, are -- are you still _in love_ with me?"

Her question caught him completely off-guard.

"What – what do you mean?"

"I mean, do you still think of me all time, do you miss me when I'm gone, do you still cherish me, do you still dream aboutmaking love to me?" She said.

She took a breath, then asked once more, "Are you still in love with me, David?"

"I – I – that's a ridiculous question. I love you, and that's that. I just need some time to figure things out, that's all?"

She looked at him with eyes of wariness and skepticism. Then, she asked the question she was absolutely terrified of asking. "Is – is there someone else?"

"What?"

"Are you seeing someone else?"

"N – no. Of course not! I would never cheat on you, Lizzie, you know that!" He shouted, visibly angry at such a suggestion.

She let out a noticeable sigh of relief. "I believe you. I'm sorry, Gordo, I know you wouldn't do that, ever. I just had to know for sure. But . . . ."

"But, what?"

"Are you . . . _attracted_ to someone else?"

His heart froze.

_She knows._

He rubbed his hands together, acting as if he had been caught red-handed. "Oh my god, Lizzie, you know me so well, you know that?" He laughed nervously.

She didn't respond in kind. She looked at him with a weary sense of defeat and deflation. She softly whispered, "Are you?"

"I – I don't know, maybe."

"Oh," she replied, as she turned away from him to hide the tears forming in her eyes.

"And that's why I think this trial separation is necessary. I need to sort some things out, it's not about you, it's not about someone else, it's about me, trying to figure out what I want , who I am."

"Oh. Okay," she replied in a hollow, empty voice. Her heart was pounding and her mind was racing. She felt light-headed and she wanted to faint. Her whole world was being turned upside down and she wanted desperately to escape from the pain of reality.

He sat there, in silence, watching his wife grieve, and he couldn't do anything except just sit there and look at the emotional damage he was causing.

He kept repeating to himself, _why am I doing this? What have we become? Who have I become?_

_But . . . this is what I want . . . ._

_isn't it? _

After an interminable silence gnawed and chewed at his heart, he finally spoke. "I'll pack my stuff and move out of the house. I don't spend much time here anyway."

"No, David, you stay here, I'll move out," she said in a bone-weary voice. "I'm not sure I can spend my time in our house alone, without you. I'll move into my parents home until I find an apartment to rent."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. I'll talk to my parents and I'll leave on the first of August," she said, as she got up from the table and ran, crying, into their bedroom.

Gordo rose up from the chair and watched as she exited the kitchen.

_I'm sorry_ . . . .

**The Night of July 31st, 2015 – The Present**

His memories finally brought him forth to the present moment.

As the pain in his head subsided, he laid in Lizzie's lap as she gently stroked his hair, comforting him as best she could.

_She's still here, for me, as always, even though I've broken her heart . . . ._

He slowly picked himself up from her lap, shook his head, then turned to face his wife.

He glanced into her worried eyes, and a thousands thoughts ran through his brain as he tried to grasp everything that had happened.

This was an incredibly surreal moment for him.

Because, now, he had three lifetimes of memories packed into his consciousness.

He had memories of a life in which Lizzie died when she was sixteen years old and in which he spent the next twelve years grieving her death.

He had memories of a life in which Lizzie survived her sixteenth year only to be killed tragically by her husband Jimmy when she was twenty-three.

And now, he had memories of a life in which Lizzie survived and he was the one who ended up marrying her.

All three sets of memories co-exist in his mind, side by side with each other, aware of each other, but never crossing paths.

And, as he struggled to make sense of his three lifetimes, he realized that he didn't know who he was anymore.

Was he the David Gordon who lost his best friend to tragic deaths and longed to be with her once again? Or, was he the David Gordon who married his best friend but who now is obsessed with his career and wants to separate from her?

He knew who he was, when he considered each timeline separately.

But, he was not a man composed only of each individual timeline. He was a man composed of _all_ three timelines.

He was a man cursed with knowing how his life could have been.

But, was he cursed, or was he blessed?

_This is soincredibly confusing and disorienting . . . ._

He didn't know what was real anymore. He didn't know who he was anymore.

_Who am I? What do I want?_

As he wrestled with his three different pasts, he knew that all three timelines were finally converging, finally about to become one.

The time had come for him to choose one life, one path, one love.

_What do I really want in my life?_

_I want . . . . _

_Lizzie._

_I want to be with my best friend, my wife, the love of my life. _

_I want Lizzie McGuire Gordon . . . ._

**TO BE CONTINUED**


	32. Chapter Thirty Two Renewal

**A Second Chance – Chapter Thirty-Two**

_**Author's Note**: Here it is, the final chapter! I'm very anxious to hear what you all think of it. I'll update later with a final author's note and respond to any final questions and comments. So, read and review! Happy New Year, HM_

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His head didn't hurt anymore, but it still didn't quite feel right.

A painless, throbbing sensation assailed the base of his skull, and his mind pulsated with buzzing activity.

He felt dizzy and overwhelmed, as countless new images and memories collided and cascaded against one another, playfully making a mess of his sense of reality.

He closed his eyes, hoping to cast away his oddly discomforting feeling of intoxication into the darkness.

As the throbbing subsided, he started to feel more grounded, less detached, more and more like a person from the world of the material rather than like a disembodied ghost from the world of the spiritual.

His eyes still wide shut, he could hear Lizzie's soft, rhythmic breathing singing into his ears.

_Lizzie . . . ._

He opened his eyes.

She was sitting right next to him, just a foot away, patiently waiting for him to wake up from his trance.

He blinked.

Then he blinked once more.

Everything seemed so strangely new and unfamiliar. It was as if he was a newborn being thrust out into the world for the very first time.

He looked around the bedroom and then returned his gaze once more to his wife's face, aglow from the light of the lamp sitting next to her.

He inched closer to his wife, drawn to her like a bee drawn to honey, his heart aching from the sight of her ethereal beauty.

It was as if he was looking at her for the very first time in twelve years, even though, in this timeline, at least, he had just seen yesterday.

He was utterly bewitched . . . those eyes, those soul-piercing eyes, they were doing quite a number on his soul.

From the vantage point of a man who has traveled three divergent lifetimes, her beauty had become deeper, more complex, more striking.

As his hands reached towards her, he gazed into her eyes, received her silent consent, and then he wrapped his arms around her and held onto her as if for dear life.

It felt like he had finally come home.

She returned his embrace, stroking the back of his head, rocking him gently, as a lone tear dropped down her right cheek and disappeared into his shoulders.

She whispered, "Gordo, what just happened? Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine," he responded. "I – I remember now. I remember everything."

"Oh," she said, as she held onto him even tighter.

He took his head off of her shoulder and gazed into her face.

He tried to speak, but he couldn't.

He just stared, lost in the depths of her soulful eyes.

"Gordo, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. It's just that . . . I just can't get over how beautiful you are."

She blushed, her face turning crimson red. She broke off eye contact and drew back from him.

She had forgotten how wonderful it was to feel the after effects of hearing those wonderful words.

Those words also deeply affected her, because they took her back to the night of twelve years ago, the night when he first said those words to her, the night when their relationship first blossomed.

_Was this night also to be a new beginning?_

She turned her head back towards him.

"Gordo, you're not making it easy for us to separate when you keep saying things like that," she said with a cautious smile.

It was his turn to look away.

He felt so ashamed of himself for the way his marriage had turned out. He couldn't believe the pain that he had put her through the past few years.

"I'm so sorry, Lizzie, about everything," he said. "And I finally understand now, all those things you said to me twelve years ago."

"What did I say?"

"Remember when you told me that we couldn't be sure that we were meant for each other, that there's no way to know how the future would unfold."

"Yes, I remember . . ."

"My god, Lizzie, you were absolutely right. I mean, this – our marriage – our life together – I can't believe that I'm the one who's ruined it all! Oh my god, please forgive me . . . ." He said, as he collapsed into her arms.

As she gently cradled his body, she whispered, "Oh, Gordo, you have nothing to be sorry about, you didn't ruin anything. About us, it's just how things turned out. That's just life. There's no wrong or right about any of this. It's going to be all okay."

He got up from her arms, grabbed both her shoulders and looked straight into her eyes. With urgency in his voice, he said, "Lizzie, please listen to me, I don't want to go through with this, I don't want to be separated from you, not ever."

After a long pause, she finally replied.

"But – I've been thinking about this the past few days, and I think you're right, you know? Maybe we both need some time to rethink things, to figure out what we both really want. "

He shook his head. "No, I don't need time or space. I've had it up to here with time. I know what I want, now."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do. I want you, Lizzie."

She was taken aback by the firmness, the conviction, the strength in his voice.

Yet, she still had to ask. "Are -- you sure?"

"Yes."

"You're not just saying this because you remember everything and now you're just feeling guilty about it all?"

"No, I'm not."

"But, what about your career? I'm just getting in the way of your career, aren't I?" She said as she bit her fingernails.

Before he could respond, she continued.

"And, what about, you know, that – woman. The one you're attracted to, the one you love."

"You mean Allison?"

She jumped back, startled. She had not heard her name before. "Is that her name?"

_God, I hate that name. God, I hate her._

"Yes, that's her name. But, I don't love her, and I'm not attracted to her anymore."

"But, what you said to me the other day –"

"Yes, what I said the other day was true. _Was_. Everything's different now."

"What do you mean?"

"Because now I remember everything! I remember the life I used to have and the life I'm living now. It's unbelievable, Lizzie, I remember my life when you died at sixteen, I remember my life when you died at twenty-three, and I remember this life, with you, with you and me, together."

"You remember me . . . dying?" She asked.

He hesitated, unsure of whether to respond. But, he saw the sad but curious look in her eyes, and so he answered her. "Yes. I remember being at your funeral, twice. Those two days were the most god-awful days of my life, Lizzie. It was so terrible, watching you being lifted into a grave, knowing you would be gone from me, forever . . . ." His voice wandered off before he could finish his sentence.

Tears started flowing down her cheeks.

She wasn't sure, however, whether those tears were for gaining a glimpse of her own untimely deaths, or whether those tears were for the pain and sorrow that Gordo went through when she died.

"But, we've changed all of that, haven't we? What happened to me in those other lives . . . it's not real anymore, right?"

"Yes. What's real is what's happening now, between us. But, those memories are seared into my consciousness and I don't think they'll ever go away. They're like scars, nightmares that'll haunt me the rest of my life."

"Oh, that's so awful. . . ."

"Yes and no. Ultimately, I think those memories are a blessing, Lizzie. They're going to be a constant reminder of all the things I've lost, a reminder of all the things and people I truly care about in life."

He touched her cheeks and kissed her softly on her lips. His hands shaking, he said, "I adore you so much, Lizzie McGuire Gordon. I've missed you, you know?"

_I've missed you, too . . . ._

For these past few years, the David Gordon she knew had been replaced by someone who looked and talked like him, but who was a completely different person.

She really didn't know who he was anymore; it was like being married to a complete stranger.

But, now, the David Gordon sitting right in front of her, he seemed . . . so real, so familiar . . . .

_Is he back? Is this my Gordo?_

"But, Gordo . . . "

"Yes?"

"Tell me, how does this change anything? About us? How does it change the way you feel about that woman and about your career? I don't want you to sacrifice your career for me and then look back with regret. I couldn't live with that, Gordo."

"That's the thing, Lizzie!" He said, with excitement dripping from his voice. "It changes everything! In my other lifetimes, I've already experienced everything I think I want in this one. I've had a phenomenal career. With you gone, I poured all of my energies into my films and cranked out film after film like there was no tomorrow. And I also ended up dating Allison."

"Oh," she said, crestfallen. "Then, that's what you really want, isn't it? I mean, I just don't fit anymore in your life, we don't have things to talk about anymore, we're never together, I – I don't belong with you. Right?"

"No, but don't you see? I had those all those things, but deep down, I was miserable!" He cried. "Everything I accomplished with my career meant absolutely nothing. I won an Oscar one year, you know what I did that night? I went home, by myself, to an empty, lifeless apartment, had dinner by myself and fell asleep on the couch, wishing you were there to share the moment with me."

She picked up his hand and started to squeeze and stroke it. She could feel the pain inside of him well up as he talked about his other life, the life that could have been.

"It's been so awful. I've felt so lonely all these years, my life's been so god-awful lonely without you. And as for Allison, that initial infatuation turned into nothing, absolutely nothing."

She shuddered, as she could actually see and feel his loneliness. It felt like a deep dark, cold tunnel that went on forever and ever, with the darkness never giving way, with no light at the end of the tunnel.

_Is he back? Is my Gordo truly back?_

Right now, a part of her wanted nothing more than to jump into his arms and say yes, let's stay together; but a part of her held her back and kept her silent. It was the part that wanted to protect her heart from undue heartbreak, the part of her that was angry with David Gordon for having emotionally abandoned her these past few years.

She was wary of opening up her heart again, so soon after it had been shattered into a million pieces.

She just couldn't get out of her head the immense pain and hurt she felt the day he told her he wanted a separation.

He looked at her, and he could sense her confusion, her internal conflict.

As she continued to stroke his hand, her eyes darted from side to side, nervously glancing at everything and nothing.

_She's so scared, about us, about the future . . . ._

All he wanted to do was comfort her, just the way she had comforted him a few moments ago. All he wanted was to love her, again, the way he always had.

But, would she let him do so? Would she let him back into her heart? What could he do to convince her that he was still in love with her?

He glanced around the room, his eyes stealing a glance at her wedding ring sitting naked on the night table.

He then gazed up at the ceiling, ran his right hand through his hair, then, with a gleam in his eyes, he took her left hand and gently lifted her off of the bed.

He had an idea.

"Gordo, what are you doing?"

"Just close your eyes and follow me."

He grabbed the ring off the nightstand, then led Lizzie out of the bedroom and into the hallway.

"Where are we going?"

He turned to her, smiled, and said, "Outside."

"But – it's raining out there! We're going to get drenched."

"I know."

He opened the front door and peered out into the night.

The rain was still falling steadily, but it was tapering off, lazily transforming from a raging storm to a tranquil summer rain shower.

"Come on, let's go."

As soon as they stepped outside, they were immediately greeted by amorous raindrops peppering their faces with tiny kisses.

Her hands still in his, he led her to the middle of the front yard, pulled her into his body, and wrapped his arms around her.

They were both barefoot, and their feet squished and swam in the small puddles littered in and around the front yard.

As raindrops flowed down her face, she smiled at Gordo, and said, "You're getting us all wet! Whatever you're up to, this had better be good."

He smiled back, as the drama and angst that had built up in their house instantly vanished amidst the loving embrace of the night rain.

He was feeling free, unfettered, released from the prisons of past,and given the opportunity to create a new future.

He curled her rain-soaked hair behind her ears, brushed his fingers across her cheeks, then kissed her lightly on her lips.

His tender show of affection was melting her heart. The way he was touching her, kissing her, it was just like it used to be . . . .

"This night . . . the rain . . . it's so beautiful, it reminds me . . . ."

"Of our first night together," he said, finishing her sentence.

"Yes," she smiled.

He kissed her forehead.

"I know, that's why I brought you out here."

"Oh? It wasn't just to see me get soaking wet in my nightgown?"

"Well, that too," he said with a sly wink in his voice.

She laughed, then buried her face in his chest.

_He's back, isn't he?_

He wrapped his arms even more firmly across her body, then said, "You notice that when anything significant happens in our lives, it's raining?"

"Of course. How could I not notice?"

"Mm-hmm. For us, the rain . . . it's always been about new beginnings."

She looked up into his bright, shining eyes and nodded.

He continued. "Remember? The night we fell in love, the first night we made love, the night that I proposed to you, the night that we married . . . it rained on all those nights."

"And it's raining tonight."

"Mm-hmm. Which means that there's something special about tonight."

With a slight hesitation in her voice, she asked, "Oh? Tell me, what special thing is going to happen tonight?"

He replied instantly, without any hesitation. "Tonight's the night we fall back in love."

She blushed as she looked down at his chest and traced the buttons on his shirt with her fingers. Try as she might, she couldn't stop herself from smiling.

She was desperately trying to be cautious and protective of herself, but it was a losing battle. Her resistance and fears were giving way, surely, if slowly.

She gently pounded her fists on his chest. "Why can't I stay upset with you?"

He grabbed her fists, pried them open with his hands, and interlaced his fingers with her fingers. "Because you love me."

She nodded affirmatively.

"Lizzie, you have every right to be angry with me. I've been a lousy husband and a lousy best friend. I wasn't there for you while you've always been there for me."

He paused.

"But, I know that now! I've been through time and back, and it's taken me three lifetimes and having to endure your death twice now in order for me to realize the truth about myself, the truth about us. But, I've finally learned about myself. I know what I want in my life --- I want you."

Her smile disappeared and she was once more beseiged with doubts and fears. "But -- "

"Uh-uh. No buts. Yes, I'm sure of it. Everything that's happened has only strenghened my love for you."

"Oh, Gordo! I -- I don't know. I mean, you're saying all this now, but what about two months from now? What if everything turns back to the way it's been this past year?" She said, as her eyes welled up with tears of fear. "I don't know if I could take all that again."

He took a deep breath, gathered his thoughts, then replied.

"Lizzie, listen, I won't guarantee you that everything will be perfect from now on. I can't promise you the future, I know that now. I learned that from you. Who knows, two months from now, maybe you'll be right and I'll turn back into a completely self-absorbed, obsessive-compulsive jerk."

He paused.

"But, you know what? Of all the things I've been through, I think I finally know what the most important lesson has been. All this time, there was one thing that kept me going, one thing that made me do all those things to change our history."

"What was it?"

"It was faith. It was my faith in you, in myself, and in our love, that brought me here, now, to be here, with you in my arms."

"Faith . . . ." She said softly. His words rang true to her heart. "Yes, faith."

"So, what I'm asking you now, Lizzie, is for you to have faith in me. Have faith that I will be the husband that I want to be for you. Have faith that I will be there for you. Have faith that I'll have your back. Have faith that we can work through whatever troubles or fights we know we're going to confront. Have faith that our marriage is something wonderful and something worth fighting for. Have faith that our future will be a joyful and beautiful one. Have faith, in me, in us."

His words captivated her heart and filled her with visions of the future.

Those visions were full of joy, happiness, passion, trust, love, and _faith_. She saw themselves working together, laughing together, smiling together, growing old together, just being together; and she saw them with their children, with their beautiful, wonderful children.

She didn't know if her visions were of the future that was to be, or of the future that she wanted.

But, it didn't matter to her. What did matter to her is that in her visions of the future, she could only envision it with David Gordon in her life, as her husband, best friend, and the father to her children.

And so, now, she was confronted with a choice – a choice between fear and love.

She could choose to follow her fears, and avoid taking a risk with her marriage for the possibility of getting hurt again. Or, she could follow her heart and her love, renew her marriage, even with the risks involved, because she loved her husband like no other person in the world, because their love is something beautiful and worth cherishing, because their love deserved her faith.

After a moment's reflection, she knew what she wanted.

She made her choice.

She chose love.

She didn't give voice to her choice, but he could see the answer in her sparkling, luminous, eyes.

He knew.

His eyes widened.

_Now's the time . . . ._

"Lizzie?" He said as he placed his right knee in a puddle of water.

"Yes?"

He showed her her wedding ring, then continued. "I love you more than I can ever say in words. Lizzie, have faith in me. Marry me, once more."

Her eyes glowed with pure joy when she saw the ring, glistening, showing off its colors in the rain.

"Yes, Gordo, I do, and I will . . . . " She whispered.

The utter joy and excitement of the moment overwhelmed his senses. He smiled broadly, and even as his hands shook like a jitterbug, he slipped the ring on her finger, then got up off of his knee, kissed her deeply and embraced her with all of his love.

The moment was pure heaven.

He showered her face with kisses while all the time whispering, "I love you," into her ears.

She held onto him as he twirled her around, whispering to him, "You're back. My Gordo's back. I love you, David Gordon."

--------------------------------------------------

And so they stood, in their front yard, in each other's rain soaked arms, slow dancing to the music of their hearts, shrouded by the rainy mist, blissfully unaware of their surroundings as the night slowly, inexorably turned into dawn.

In a night when time had been turned upside down, in this moment, everything became timeless, eternal, forever.

For they were fully present in the eternal moment of the now, with each other, in love with each other, in love with the world, with faith in each other, with faith in the universe.

And how could they not?

For the Universe had conspired with Father Time to give them the miraculous opportunity to change their history, the opportunity to let their love triumph over time.

Faith had given their love a second chance.

**THE END**


End file.
